


Amas Veritas

by est_in_manus



Category: Practical Magic (1998), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ages what are ages, Alternate Universe - Practical Magic, Canonical Character Death, Dancing under the moon, Everything is out of whack, F/M, I can't stop picturing Deaton and Morrell in these like long and old black witch robes, I'll add more character tags as I go, Kind of depressed Stiles, M/M, Non-Canonical Character Death, Sassy mcsass queen Lydia Martin, Talking about boys, bare with me it makes sense in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/est_in_manus/pseuds/est_in_manus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I thought you said you never wanted to fall in love?”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Stiles stopped, turning around slowly to face his sister. </i>
</p>
<p>  <i>“That’s the point, Lyds. The man I’m talking about doesn’t exist, and if he doesn’t exist…I’ll never die of a broken heart.” He said.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>aka my take on a Practical Magic AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up one day and said "You know what? No. I'm going to do it."
> 
> Practical Magic has been one of my all time favorite movies since the first time I saw it when I was 5 years old, sitting in front of my old ass TV. 
> 
> So here you go! Another take on the AU no one knew they wanted! 
> 
> Enjoy :]

“Children, it’s time you learned about your family history… 

 

For many generations, your family has been blamed for everything that’s gone wrong in this town.”

“Is that why people hate us?”

“They don’t hate you, my love, we just…make them a little nervous.”

“Let’s face it, Alan, their family has always created a bit of a stir…It all started with your Ancestor, Maria. 

She was a witch.

The first in your family, and you my darlings, are the most recent.”

“Is that why they wanted to hang her?”

“Well, the fact that your aunt Maria was a bit of a heartbreaker and most of them had wives on the hanging committee didn’t help…But no. I don’t think it was either of those reasons.

They hated her because she had a gift, a gift that has been passed on to you, children. 

Maria had the gift…of magic.”

 

“It was this gift that saved her life that day. She jumped from the ledge with the noose around her neck, and the rope snapped before she could hang herself. 

She was banished to this very island, her unborn child growing within her. She waited for her lover to come and rescue her, but they never came. 

No one ever came.”

 

“So in a moment of weakness, Maria cast a spell on herself, vowing to never feel the agony of love ever again. But as her bitterness grew, the spell turned into a curse.

A curse upon anyone who dare love a member in your family.”

“Is that why our dad died? Because of the curse?”

“Yes Stiles, and your mother knew. She heard the sound of the beetle ticking all day. And everyone in your family knows when you hear the sound of the death watch beetle, your lover is soon to die…”

“…Mommy died of a broken heart, didn’t she?”

“Oh Lydia, my darling little girl, yes she did. But do you know what she left behind?”

“What?”

“Two beautiful children who will go on to do great things when they’re older, and your mother has entrusted her dear brother and sister to keep good watch over you two.” 

“How are you her brother and sister? You’re both bla-“ 

“It matters not the color of your skin, but the strength of your bond. Remember that, dear Stiles.

Now…Let’s go inside and do some spells!”

 

***********

 

_I hope I never fall in love. I hope I never fall in love. I hope I never fall in love…_

 

**…I can’t wait to fall in love.**

 

***********

 

If there was one thing Stiles was scared of more than losing his sister, it was love. After seeing what some people would do, what some people would ask his aunt and uncle to do in order to get love, he wanted nothing to do with it. 

But even Stiles knew that you couldn’t help it sometimes. It could sneak up on you with no warning, and then you were in trouble. He watched love destroy his mother slowly after it took his dad away. Now that he knew about the curse, he wouldn’t let himself or someone else face the dangers of falling in love with a Stilinski. 

So he created the love of his life. 

Not really, this wasn’t Frankenstein or anything, but he made a spell creating the perfect guy for him. Sure, he was still young and maybe he would find he liked girls too when he was older. He’d just make another spell then.

 

_He will be able to hear my call from a mile away…_

Lydia found Stiles in Uncle Alan’s greenhouse, plucking different flower petals. 

“What are you doing?” She asked. 

_He will be really good at singing, but keep it a secret…_

Stiles continued plucking the petals. 

“I’m summing up a true love spell,” He said. 

_His smile will warm the saddest heart…_

_His favorite shape will have three spirals…_

_He’ll have green eyes, but blue in the night…_

_His favorite animal will be a wolf…_

 

Lydia followed her brother around the greenhouse as he deposited more flowers into the wooden bowl he carried. She snuck a peek at his little journal, reading the spell he wrote. 

“I thought you said you never wanted to fall in love?”

Stiles stopped, turning around slowly to face his sister. 

“That’s the point, Lyds. The man I’m talking about doesn’t exist, and if he doesn’t exist…I’ll never die of a broken heart.” He said. 

He shrugged, turning back around and heading into the house. 

“Come on, we need to get up high for this to work!” He said. 

The siblings raced up the many flights of stairs in their aunt and uncle’s house, making their way to the top floor. 

Lydia opened the door leading out to the top balcony for her brother, watching as he lifted the bowl and closed his eyes. 

Lydia watched as several of the petals fluttered about in the bowl before spiraling around and lifting into the sky. Stiles opened his eyes to watch as his spell flew into the night, making patterns and drifting off to find his imaginary man. All the while, one thing stayed on his mind.

_And if he doesn’t exist…I’ll never die of a broken heart._

 

***********

**Several years later…**

 

“Stiles get the door!” Lydia whisper-shouted as she raced toward him with a huge sack of all her clothes. “Get the door, get the door, get the door!” 

Stiles quickly reached for the knob, wrenching the balcony door open and watching as Lydia threw her belongings from the second story. At first he thought she was crazy, until he heard a very rugged and manly grunt from the yard. He took another look to find the rather attractive guy who caught Lydia’s rucksack. 

“Wow…” Stiles said. 

“Stiles, you have _no_ idea.” Lydia giggled. 

“Do you really love this guy? I mean enough to marry him?” 

“Oh come on, Stiles, what’s enough? I hate it here! I want to go where no one even knows what a Stilinski is!”

“I just feel like I’m never gonna see you again…” Stiles said, looking down. 

“What do you mean, of course you’re going to see me again! What about all the promises we made to each other?” 

“Yeah but…”

“Stiles, I’m leaving now, but I’m not gone forever. You know I’d never leave you. We’re gonna be together forever. Grow old, have a shit load of cats, and die on the same day!” She said.

When Stiles said nothing, Lydia studied him for a moment before calling out to her boyfriend. 

“Baby, can you throw me your pocket knife?” She asked. 

The man tossed his knife to Lydia and when she grabbed it out of the air, she reached for Stiles’ hand. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, pulling his hand back. 

“Will you trust me? I’m making an oath now give me your hand.” Lydia said. 

Hesitantly, Stiles reached his hand out again and immediately regretted his decision. 

Lydia grabbed it and cut a line into his palm.

“Ow, are you crazy?” He shouted. 

“Your blood,” She said, ignoring his question. Lydia winced as she cut into her own palm. “My blood.” 

She reached for Stiles’ hand once more, placing their palms together and holding on. 

“Our blood,” She said. 

Stiles stared at their joined hands, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Our blood,” He confirmed. 

He pulled his sister into a strong hug, not sure when he was going to see her again. 

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I know, I’m going to miss you too. I promise I’ll keep in touch.” Lydia said. 

“Let me know whenever you have a vision, okay?”

“You’ll know probably the same time I will.” She said. 

“I know but still, call me or something.” Stiles said. 

“I promise. I love you Stiles, take care of yourself. Tell Uncle Alan and Aunt Marin I love them too!” 

Lydia jumped off the balcony and practically floated to the ground, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand and running off. Stiles watched as his best friend left him to live her life. 

He only hoped that it was his turn soon. 

 

_Our blood…_


	2. Knock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We can’t do that, Stiles.” Marin says._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“We don’t do that,” Alan tries._

Stiles isn’t sulking, no matter what Aunt Marin says. He’s just…really sad and bored. It’s been just over a year since Lydia left to make a name for herself in God knows where, and he hasn’t seen her even once. He’s still pretty pissed that she missed his birthday. 

What kind of sister misses her brother’s birthday? Lydia, that’s who. The only frequent communication he gets to have with her is the letters she sends every month letting them all know she’s safe and where she is. 

“Ooh! She’s in Orlando now!” Uncle Alan says. 

“What? What do you mean she’s in Orlando? She was in North Carolina last month!” Stiles says, snatching the letter out of his uncle’s hand. 

“She’s just enjoying herself.” Aunt Marin says. 

“This is insane, she keeps going through all these guys.” Stiles voices his concern for his sister’s love life. 

The man she left with was gone after the first week and Stiles hasn’t been able to keep up since. 

“Pretty soon she’s gonna find a guy who goes through her and I am _not_ dealing with that phone call.” 

“Oh leave your sister be, she’s a strong girl. She can take care of herself.” Aunt Marin says. 

“Yeah that’s what I’m afraid of…” Stiles lets his sentence wander off as he attempts to ignore how everyone they pass on the street avoids walking anywhere near him and his guardians. 

He still hasn’t gotten used to the way the town talks of his family, now that he’s old enough to understand what they’re saying. He can’t look at some of his old classmates without remembering what they used to shout at him and Lydia. 

 

_Witch! Witch! You’re a witch! Witch! Witch! You’re a witch!_

 

He still takes pride in the fact that he received three weeks worth of detention for punching Greenburg in the face for throwing a stone at Lydia. Greenburg moved shortly after that, Stiles likes to think he had something to do with it. 

“Okay, I get they don’t like us but do they have to make such a big deal out of it? What happened to ‘out of sight, out of mind?’” Stiles whispers. 

“Well considering we aren’t exactly out of sight…” Uncle Alan says. 

“Rhetorical, Uncle Al, that was a rhetorical question.” 

“You should keep those to yourself Stiles, not everyone knows when you’re not being serious. Besides, not everyone hates you. What about Scott and Erica?” 

Scott McCall and Erica Reyes were the only two people who didn’t care what Stiles’ family background was known for. Scott had declared himself Stiles and Lydia’s friend back in Kindergarten and Erica came out of nowhere in middle school. She herself was a bit of an outcast. 

“Scott and Erica don’t really count, they’re more like family anyway. Besides, everyone should know when I’m being serious, I mean it doesn’t happen often.” 

“Enough with the bickering, you two. Oh look, the farmer’s market is in town today!” Aunt Marin says, making her way toward the crowded area. 

“No don’t go that way!” Stiles shouts. 

“And why not?”

“There’s people there.” 

“Stiles there is people everywhere.” Uncle Alan reminds him. 

“All the more reason for us to just got back to the house and ignore that we live in a town that hates us.”

“They don’t hate us, they hate what we’re known for.”

“I really don’t think there is much of a difference.” Stiles says. 

He’s about to try one more time to convince them to give up the market for the day when something collides into him from behind, shoving him forward and onto the floor. 

“Jesus Christ that hurt like a mother fu- could you watch where you’re going?” Stiles yells. 

He’s rubbing the back of his head when he looks up and sees one of the prettiest guys he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Oh God, I am so sorry. I swear I didn’t see you at all. Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance?” The guy says. 

He extends a hand to help Stiles get up, the latter too dumbfounded to realize right off. 

“Um…Did you fall hard enough to forget normal functions like moving your arms and legs?” The guy asks. 

Stiles shakes his head back and forth, immediately regretting the motion when his head starts pounding. He takes the guys hand and pulls himself up, trying his best to ignore the way the guy’s muscles bulge under his shirt sleeve. 

“Sorry I kind of lost my train of thought for a second.” He says. 

The guy in front of him has tan skin, brown eyes, and dimples for days when he smiles. 

“Yeah, I have that effect on people.” He snarks. “I really am sorry that happened, I should have listened when they told me not to stack the apple crates that high. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Totally fine, I’ve had worse. This one time, my sister and I were running down the five flights of stairs we have – it’s a big house, don’t ask questions – and I missed a step and pretty much barrel rolled down the last three. Surprisingly no stitches needed, but I’m sure I suffered a little bit of brain damage. It’s still yet to be determined. I’m sorry, I’m totally rambling and I can’t seem to shut my brain off. I’m Stiles by the way. Stiles Stilinski, don’t ask me why, I have a really confusing first name that you will hopefully never hear if I can help it.” Stiles shuts his mouth audibly, holding his hand out to shake. 

The guy laughs, shaking Stiles’ hand. 

“I’m Danny Mahealani. I moved here a few weeks ago.” 

“Well, welcome to Beacon Hills! The most boring Island you will ever live on.” Stiles says. 

“Well considering the last one I lived on was Hawaii, there really isn’t any argument there.” Danny laughs. 

“Stiles, we’re heading home!” Uncle Alan shouts. 

“One second, I’ll be right there!” Stiles shouts back. “Listen, I have to get going but hopefully I’ll see you around?”

“I sure hope so,” Danny says, releasing the full power of his dimples. 

Stiles is in serious trouble. 

He turns around and heads back toward his house, walking past his aunt and uncle in a daze. 

Alan and Marin give each other a knowing look, following behind Stiles with the plans of a spell that night. 

Stiles has no idea what the future holds for him, and something inside told him it was both good and bad. However, he chooses to ignore those feelings. 

After all, Lydia’s the one with the powers of precognition, not Stiles. 

 

*************

_Dear Lyds,_

_Today Danny and I celebrated our third anniversary together. And out of three years, the only thing we have to show for it…is two beautiful girls. Our little family is the best thing to ever happen to me, and I can’t wait for you to meet them._

_You should see it, Lydia. No more stones being thrown, no stupid taunts cried out. Everything is blissfully normal and I wouldn’t have it any other way._

_I still miss you every day, though. You need to come home soon and visit._

_Love you._

 

**Dear Stiles,**

**I’m lying on a beach, sipping on a margarita. I have a million friends, and not one person knows who I am. I don’t care for any of it, though. I have just two words for you,**

**Peter Hale.**

**I don’t know where he came from, but I know he’s it for me. He’s strong enough to beat the curse…I don’t know if that’s a good thing, but I haven’t gotten a bad feeling from him yet. Just a feeling of…power. Maybe that was what I needed to find? I promise I’ll be home soon, I want to meet my nieces.**

**Who told you to start a family when I’m not there? How rude.**

**See you soon.**

**Love you too.**

 

*************

 

Stiles wakes up when a chilling sensation runs down his spine. He opens his eyes and looks around his room, finding Danny next to him in bed and their daughter Allison in between them. He knows Kira’s in her room sleeping, he can feel her just fine, so what was it that woke him up out of a dead sleep? 

That’s when he hears it. 

The sound has him up right in seconds scanning the floor from the bed for the source. 

_knock-knock-knock…knock-knock-knock_

It’s so quiet that anyone besides Stiles probably couldn’t hear it which makes the situation even worse. Without ever hearing the sound before, he knows exactly what it is and that has his stomach in knots. 

_knock-knock-knock_

He swears it’s getting louder. He’s out of bed and on all fours, searching frantically and hoping to spot the source and destroy it. Maybe nothing will happen if he can eliminate the problem. 

“Baby what are you doing?” Danny whispers. 

Stiles looks up from the floor to find him and Allison watching him from the bed. 

_knock-knock-knock_

“I…was looking for my contact.” Stiles lies. 

“In the pitch dark at three in the morning? Stiles you have a bunch more in the cabinet, come back to bed.” 

“I know but-“ 

“Stiles please, we have to be up in two hours.” Danny says. 

Stiles wants to cry. He wants to cry and keep searching for the damn beetle. If he doesn’t find it, he doesn’t know what will happen. This was never supposed to happen. 

He silently crawls back into the bed and Allison quickly curls up to his side. Danny rolls over onto his stomach, draping an arm over Stiles and Allison as if to keep them safe. Stiles watches as they both fall back to sleep easily, but it doesn’t come for Stiles. He stays up all night staring at his husband, praying to whoever he can think of that nothing happens. 

_This was never supposed to happen._

Stiles never even realized when things had changed. He just assumed everything would be okay. Three years. Maria had given him three years to love and cherish his husband. 

Love. 

That was the problem. Stiles loves Danny and now Danny is going to die because of him. He has to find that beetle before anything can happen. 

_This was never supposed to happen._

_knock-knock-knock_

_And if he doesn’t exist…I’ll never die of a broken heart._

_knock-knock-knock_

_knock-knock-knock_

 

_knock-knock-knock_

 

He covers his ears with his pillow, hoping it will help drown out the sound. 

*************

 

“Do you really have to go in today? Can’t they find someone else to stalk the market for once?” Stiles has spent the last hour bouncing between getting his daughters ready for school and trying to convince Danny to stay home today. Only one has been going well. 

“I told you Stiles, I can’t do that to them. Kevin’s out sick and Liam’s wife went into labor last night.” Danny says. 

“That’s great, but Liam could totally still work. It’s not like he’s having contractions.”

The look Danny gives Stiles is borderline murderous. 

“I just…I have a bad feeling, okay? I’m afraid of what it means.” Stiles tries. 

“Baby, you told me you don’t believe in that stuff.” 

“I don’t! It doesn’t mean I don’t have a bad feeling, Danny. Please, please, please don’t go today.” 

Danny stares at his husband, honestly considering what Stiles is telling him, when Kira calls for one of them to help braid her hair. Danny shakes his head, placing his hands on either side of Stiles’ face.

“In order for things like bad feelings to work, you have to really believe in them right? Well I don’t. I’m coming home tonight and you’re going to see everything was fine. Now, I have to get going.” Danny says. 

He kisses Stiles softly and tries to pull away to leave. Stiles grabs Danny’s hands, pulling him back in and kissing him harder. 

“I love you. I love you so much and I need you to remember that, okay?” He says. 

Danny kisses him back, nodding in agreement, before he finally backs away and heads to the door. 

When Stiles finishes braiding Kira’s hair and making sure Allison eats, he rushes them out the door so they can catch the school bus on time. He gets his routine kisses from each, telling them how much he loves them both and making sure they both grabbed their lunches off the table. When the door closes behind them he hears the horrid sound again. 

_knock-knock-knock_

He turns around slowly and looks around the living room. It’s like he can feel the beetle watching him, watching what he does next. 

_knock-knock-knock_

He walks slowly to the couch, lowering himself to the floor and putting his ear to it. 

_knock-knock-knock_

Stiles makes a noise of frustration, slamming his hand against the floor and digging his fingers into the old floorboards, attempting to pull them up. 

“Where are you, you son of a bitch!” He yells. 

He pulls up board after board, searching for the beetle that haunts him. The knocking has gotten gradually louder, almost deafening. He can barely hear anything else, no matter how hard he strains his ears. 

He can feel his connection to his family, Allison and Kira are on the school bus. They’re laughing with each other, making up their own little song. Danny…Danny is at the farmer’s market, loading up the crates and making sure every vendor has what they need. 

_**knock-knock-kock…knock-knock-knock** _

Stiles turns his attention back to his task. The sound is more urgent, almost like…

“NO! No, you can’t do this to me! Damnit Maria, please! Don’t do this!” He’s screaming now, pulling up any boards his hands can get on. 

He can feel random objects around him begin to float. Stiles is giving off too much magical energy and is too untrained to try and reel it back in. His ears are so trained on listening for Danny that he flinches when someone screams. 

“Danny, look out!” 

Everything goes silent, the floating objects falling forcefully to the ground as gravity takes over once again. Stiles doesn’t breathe, waiting for his connection with Danny to severe. When nothing happens, he finally let’s himself inhale. 

He can feel Danny which means Danny is still alive. Whatever happened didn’t kill him. Stiles laughs because the other option is to cry and he really doesn’t feel like doing that right now. He’s so overcome with relief that he doesn’t expect it when he hears tires squeal against the pavement and a loud crash. 

He has no warning when something in his chest snaps forcefully, making him double over in pain. He shouts for Danny, knowing full well it’s in vain. Danny is gone. He’s gone and it’s all because of Stiles. 

_When you hear the sound of the death watch beetle…You’re lover is doomed to die._

*************

 

That night, Stiles barges into his aunt and uncle’s house. Kira and Allison fell asleep early, crying themselves of all their energy. Erica and Scott agreed to watch over them while Stiles meets with his guardians. He can still feel his girls, though. As long as he could feel them, he knew they were okay. They were all he had left and he will be damned if something happens to them. 

He finds the kitchen area empty but he knows his guardians are home. He can feel them too, their connection somewhat stronger. 

“It was the curse wasn’t it?” He calls out. “He died and it’s all my fault. He died because I loved him so much!” 

“Oh Stiles…” Aunt Marin says, stepping into the kitchen. 

Uncle Alan is not far behind, appearing from the other side. They share a look with each other, Stiles sees what looks like regret flash across their features. 

“We had no idea when we cast the spell…” Alan says. 

Stiles stares at them for a moment, confused as to what they mean. 

“I don’t under-…Oh you didn’t. Please, for the love of God, tell me that you didn’t. That my own flesh and blood would know better than to mess with my love life!” He shouts. 

“We didn’t mess around,” Marin says. “It was just a little push. We wanted so much for you to be happy.” 

“We didn’t know you would end up loving him.”

“I WAS HAPPY!” He screams, making his guardians flinch. “I was so fucking happy and I loved him! This was all your fault! You knew what you were doing and you still got involved. I am so…I…I don’t even know what to fucking say. I thought I could trust you. My mother told me to trust you two and this is what you do?” 

Stiles is shaking, he can feel the magic tingling on his finger tips. He won’t use it against them, though. He isn’t like them, he won’t use his magic on family. Instead, he gets an idea. 

He charges past his aunt, shoving himself through the open door of the next room and grabbing a large, old book off the table. When he enters the kitchen again, he slams the book down on the island in the middle. 

“You pulled your magic together to bring him into my life and now you’re going to bring him back.” He says, flipping through the ancient pages. 

“We can’t do that, Stiles.” Marin says.

“We don’t do that,” Alan tries. 

“No, you can. I know you can, I know it’s in here. I saw it here when Mom and Dad died, I saw it. I was going to do it but I wasn’t strong enough.” He says. 

“Stiles even if we did do it,” Marin says but stops herself. 

“Even if we tried, it wouldn’t be Danny.” Alan finishes. 

Stiles finds the spell, the dark writing sticking out to him. Just staring at the page makes him feel sick. It’s in an old language that he recognizes but doesn’t know what it says. 

“It would be something dark and corrupt, something not human. It wouldn’t be Danny.” Alan repeats. 

“I DON’T CARE WHAT HE COMES BACK AS, AS LONG AS HE COMES BACK!” Stiles yells. 

His knees finally give out, making him fall to the ground in front of the island. 

“As long as he comes back,” He repeats. “I can’t live like this alone. I need him, don’t you get that? You threw him into my life and now I don’t know how to do anything without him!” 

Alan and Marin have the decency to look guilty, but still make no move to try and begin the spell. 

“Please give him back to me? Please?” He asked, begs. 

His hands are folded in front of him on the island.

“Please?” He asks Alan. 

“Please?” He asks Marin. 

They both avert their gaze from him, not strong enough to look him in the eyes. 

“Please!” He sobs, losing all his energy. 

He’s too weak and tired to fight anymore. Deep down, he knows what he is asking for is not obtainable. He knows the spell is dark and it wouldn’t be Danny, but Stiles has gotten so used to having someone that he doesn’t know how to be alone anymore. He doesn’t know how to move on. 

_And if he doesn’t exist…I’ll never die of a broken heart._

 

*************

Stiles sells the house. 

It’s too much for him or the girls to be in and he isn’t going to force any of them to stay there. He reluctantly moves himself and his daughters into his aunt and uncle’s house. 

“Homework will be done every night before dinner. 

You’ll brush your teeth and comb your hair every night before bed. 

There will be no chocolate cake for breakfast no matter how much you girls try and finagle it. 

This is only temporary to please try not to get too comfortable.”

Stiles feels them before he sees them on the door step, waiting for him and the girls to arrive. 

He speaks quietly, but he knows his guardians can hear him. 

“As for you two? My children will never learn magic. Ever.” He says. 

He knows Marin and Alan know better than to argue with him about it. His girls will live as close to a normal life and possible, even if it means depriving them of a world that they deserve to know about. 

 

************* 

Days after moving back in, Stiles is lying in his bed while the girls sleep in the room above him. He wants to keep them close in case one of them has a nightmare. 

He’s on the bridge of sleep and awake when he feels his bed dip with a new weight. A connection he hasn’t felt above a dull warmth in years, makes itself known in his heart and he knows exactly who is lying next to him. 

He opens his eyes to see Lydia staring back at him, rubbing circling into the hand closest to her. Stiles didn’t realize he was calling for her through their connection, but he knew he needed her right now. He’s overcome with happiness, sadness, exhaustion, and mourning. The tears begin again for the thousandth time and he makes no move to try and stop them. 

“I was happy,” is all he whispers before she wraps him in an embrace as he sobs loudly into her chest. 

_Our blood…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, for this story Beacon Hills is an Island. 
> 
> Also, before I get questions or worries that I'm getting my plots screwed up: 
> 
> No, Stiles is NOT related to Marin and Alan. HOWEVER, witches always treat each other like family and (being a past wiccan) we've always referred to each other as flesh and blood, even if no such connection existed. I hope that's not as confusing as it could be...
> 
> Any questions will be answered if asked! :]
> 
> I'm having a little bit of trouble with using the plot from Practical magic but not making this story like...an exact replica. I think I'm getting the hang of it though!
> 
> Like my other story, I'm hoping to update this once every week! 
> 
> For those of you who are readers of If There Are Boundaries, I'm excited to say that Part 2 will be starting after July 4th!! 
> 
> (That was some shameless promoting of my original story, sorry!)
> 
> Comments and feedback are always welcome :]
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Have a wonderful week! 
> 
> -John


	3. Precognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“A thunder kistune to be exact.” Uncle Alan says. “Her powers are just manifesting which is a sign of supernatural maturity.”_
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> _“Supernatural matur- Yeah, sure, count on me to adopt the one child who ends up being a Japanese fox spirit.” Stiles says, throwing his hands in the air._

Stiles definitely hasn’t forgotten what’s happened. It’s an ever present dark cloud over him, the fact that he was the person responsible for Danny’s death. Of course, he wasn’t directly involved with how his husband died, but the town sees it that way. They have no proof, but they just _know_ it’s stiles’ fault, and Stiles knows it too.

He’s a widower now…

It’s such a strange concept to think about so he tries not to. He had three years of blissful ignorance. Three years of no name calling, no taunting, no stones, sneers, or averted eyes. Now he has to go back to being hated because he killed the man he loved. 

Oh, his poor little girls. Kira and Allison had no idea what was about to come, and he didn’t know how to help them. 

“Stop thinking about it,” Lydia says from her place on the floor. 

After she arrived hours before, she and Stiles have done nothing but talk and catch up. It’s good, Stiles needs the distraction. He’s currently sprawled out on the bed, head leaning over the foot of it as he and Lydia talk. 

“I’m trying not to, but it’s kind of hard when you just killed your husband.” He says. 

“You didn’t kill him, Stiles, Maria did.”

“Yeah, that’s not much better. Maria’s our vengeful ancestor who doesn’t like the idea of someone loving up on us, so she kills them off. That being said, her blood runs through our veins, therefore it’s technically my fault.” Stiles explains. 

Lydia rolls her eyes, putting her cigarette out.

“So are you going to tell me when you took up smoking and why?” He asks. 

She shrugs, pushing the ashtray away from her and sitting up. 

“A couple of months ago and because I had nothing else to do.” Lydia said. 

“…You took up smoking because you were bored?”

“What? It’s not like _we_ can die from nicotine.” She said with a smirk. 

It’s Stiles’ turn to roll his eyes. Sure, their family had the strange occurrence where normal harmful substances had no effect on their bodies, but it didn’t make Stiles want to go out and try heroine.

“It doesn’t make it any cooler, you freak.” He says.

Lydia throws one of the pillows she stole from Stiles back at him, making him giggle.

“Hey,” She says. “You need to start thinking about what you’re going to do now. I know you’re grieving, and that’s important, but you also have two beautiful girls upstairs that you still have to raise.” 

Stiles nods, knowing his sister is right. 

“You can’t back out like mom did.” She adds. 

That really gets his mind working, knowing full well he would never do what their mother did. 

“I won’t abandon my girls, Lydia. You’d have to pry them out of my fingers first.” He says. 

“Don’t tempt me,” She smiles. “They’re really cute.” 

“Yeah they are.”

“I stopped upstairs first to catch a glimpse of them. The older one, Kira. She’s not biolically-“ 

“No, we adopted Kira first. Allison isn't mine either, she was adopted shortly after Kira. 

Danny and Stiles had fallen in love with Kira the moment they saw her in the orphanage. Kira was nine when they found her and had spent her whole time there. Stiles wouldn’t leave unless Kira was coming with them, and Danny had agreed immediately. Kira was his daughter, and no one could tell him otherwise. 

They bumped into Allison on accident, while a social worker was taking her out for the day. Stiles couldn't explain the pull he felt toward the little girl, but he knew she belonged in his family. He asked the social worker about her. From what he gathered, she was currently in an abusive home. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. She wasn't really safe where she was. Stiles sought out to do whatever he needed to in order to get Allison safe. That was how she came home with him and Danny. 

“Count on you to have one of the strangest childhood stories for your grandchildren.” Lydia says.

“Hey now, you better watch it or I won’t let you have your aunty times.” He jokes. 

Lydia smiles fondly at Stiles and he can feel the warmth spreading in his own chest. 

“That’s right, I’m an aunt now, huh?” 

“That you are, dear sister.” He says. 

“That’s so weird. I never imagined me being an aunt. Like, it’s not that I didn’t expect you to have children, more that I forgot what that meant for me.” She says. “Does this mean I have to start wearing the same clothes at Aunt Marin?”

“Oh God, please don’t. I’m not very happy with either of them right now.” 

Lydia stares at her brother for a long time. She doesn’t agree with what her guardians did to her brother, but now was not the time for revenge.

“You know, in their own stupid way, they were doing it out of care for you.” She says. 

“Yeah well I made it very clear I want no more favors from them.” Stiles replies. 

“I would do the same thing.” 

“I would hope so or you’re finding a new brother.”

“Yeah, good luck getting rid of me.” She smirks. “Anyway, do you have any kind of plan for the future, now?” 

Stiles sighs, getting off the bed and grabbing a folder from his dresser. He hands it to Lydia before sitting down across from her.

“What are these, lease forms?” She asks. 

Stiles nods, pulling out a box from under the bed.

“Danny and I had planned to open up a home remedy store. Lotions, soaps, shampoos and conditioners, the works. He would get the supplies needed and I would make it all.” He says, staring down at his makeshift recipe box.

“That’s an awesome idea, Stiles.” Lydia says. 

“Yeah but it’s kind of wishful thinking now.”

“Why is that?”

“Well I can’t do it alone.”

“Stiles you have two friends with no lives that would gladly help you with this.” Lydia reminds him. 

“Scott and Erica totally have lives.” He defends. 

“Scott works part time with Uncle Alan and Erica is too bitchy to hold a job longer than a month. They’ll help you and you know it.” She corrects.

“Lydia, I don’t know about this.” Stiles tries. 

This was his and Danny’s dream. He doesn’t know if he can do it just him.

“You won’t know until you try, Stiles. What’s the worst that could happen? You find out it isn’t working out? So you sell the store back and try something else. Regardless, you need to find something to occupy your time or you’re never going to leave this room. I don’t want to see you do that, Stiles. It’s time to live again.” Lydia says. 

Stiles is silent for a long time, really considering his options. He decides his sister is right and that he’ll open the store the moment he asks Scott and Erica. 

“When did you get to be so smart?” He jokes.

Lydia shrugged, lighting another cigarette. 

“It’s one of my many talents. That and finding cute boys.” She says.

“Ah yes, tell me about this boy. Peter Hale was it?” He asks. 

“The one and only,” Lydia says, a stupid grin forming on her face. “He’s older than us, almost in his forties. Very handsome, and has this sort of mysterious side that I just can’t get enough of.” 

“Sounds kind of creepy.” Stiles says.

“He’s not creepy. He’s lost a lot, though. Most of his family was burned to death a few years back. He’s grown from it. I get this strong vibe from him.”

“Yeah you told me in your letter. You really think he could withstand our curse?”

“I think he’s got a pretty good chance.” Lydia says. 

Stiles tries his best not to feel bitter about it. He’s happy for his sister, really, but he can’t help but wonder: Why is Lydia’s man strong enough to beat the curse, but not Stiles’?

“Just be careful, Lyds. I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Don’t worry about me, brother. I take very good care of myself.” She says. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I hope it’s not your burial I’m sensing in the future.” Stiles jokes. 

“Please, Stiles, leave the precog stuff to me. You were never really good at it.” 

“Ouch.”

“Just speaking the truth,” Lydia says. “You should try to get some sleep.”

Stiles looks to his bed then back at Lydia, watching as she puts the cigarette out.

“You’re not going to be here when I wake up.” He determines. 

Lydia has the heart to look guilty. 

“I’m afraid not. I came back because I felt you were in pain. Not physically, but emotionally. Your spirit was broken and I felt it. I came to see you were going to be okay. You’re in good hands here on Beacon Hills, but this isn’t my home anymore, Stiles.” 

“What makes you think I’m in good hands here? My guardians played with my life and everyone here hates me again.” He says. 

“Not everyone. You still have Erica and Scott, and regardless of what the dynamic duo have done to you, they’ll always protect you. You’re safer here than anywhere else.” Lydia says. 

“You would be too if you came back,” Stiles tries. “I feel like I’m not going to see you again.” 

He doesn’t mean to make Lydia feel guilty, repeating what he said to her the last time he saw her. He just doesn’t want to wait years before seeing his sister again. She reaches out for his hand, taking it in hers and turning it over palm up. She gently traces over the faint scar from where she cut him those years ago, bringing her own scar to rest next to his. 

“I’m always here for you, all you have to do is call.” She says. 

Stiles tries to smile but he’s sure it looks more like a wince. Defeated, he climbs onto his bed and lies down, pulling his sister with him. If he’s going to wake up alone, she’s at least going to wait until he falls asleep in her arms. Delicately, Lydia starts trailing her pointer finger down the bridge of his nose. 

Stiles is asleep before he realizes he’s actually tired. 

_I love you…_

“I love you too, Lyds.” Stiles whispers. 

 

***********

 

A few weeks later, Stiles is opening his store to the public for the very first time. When he enters, he finds Erica and Scott already at work with stocking the shelves of premade remedies. They’re chatting away about something that Stiles doesn’t catch onto right away as he makes his way behind the counter. 

“Ready for the big day?” Scott asks.

“Dude, you make it sound like someone is actually going to come in here.” Stiles says. 

“Don’t say that, bro! It’s exciting! You’re opening your first ever business and I know it’s going to be great. My mom loves the lotion you made her. She says it does wonders to her hands, especially with the amount of time they spend inside latex gloves.”

“That’s great, Scott. Let me know if she runs out, I’ll make her more.” He says, opening the register and making sure the change is all inside. 

There’s a knock on the window that makes Stiles look up to find his daughters making silly faces at him. He can’t help but laugh as they drag their faces across the window, not finding it in himself to be mad. 

“Oh God, they’re too cute for their own good.” Erica says. “I want one of them.” 

“Over my dead body, girl. Don’t even try.” Stiles threatens. 

“Oh please, you know I’m joking.” 

Their conversation is cut short when Stiles hears the phrase that turns his blood to ice. 

 

_”Witch! Witch! You’re a witch! Witch! Witch! You’re a witch!”_

 

“Oh you have got to be kidding me. They can’t get anything more creative?” He says as he rushes out of the store. 

Kira is pushing against of the boys as Allison tries to pull her back. 

“Kira stop! You know he’s just gonna get you in trouble!” She cries. 

“Kira, enough!” Stiles shouts, pulling his daughters back. 

The parent of the other child yanks him back as well. 

“Really, it was yours who started this.” They say. 

“Are you serious right now? I specifically saw your kid start shouting at mine first.” Stiles defends.

“Well you saw wrong, Tyler would never do that.” 

“I’d beg to differ on that one, but whatever helps you sleep at night.” He says. 

“Dad, I didn’t do anything!” Kira shouts. 

Before Stiles can say anything, Tyler shouts back. 

“Yeah right, you liar! Mom, she’s lying!” 

“Shut up, Tyler. You’re nothing but a bully! Bullies deserve to be punished!” She says. 

Stiles looks down in time to see short bouts of electricity appearing around Kira’s hands. His stomach drops as he crouches down in front of her and takes her hands in his, wincing as he gets shocked a little. 

“Kira you need to calm down right now, do you understand?” 

“But Dad-“

“No, Kira, now!” He hisses. 

“Mom! Mom! Do you see that? Do you see that Mom? She’s a freak!” Tyler shouts. 

Stiles turns back around and faces the mother. 

“There is nothing to see here.” He says. 

“What the hell ar-“

“I said,” He interrupts. “There is nothing to see here. Now leave us alone and go back to whatever it is you snobby people do. I suggest you get your kids to school before I claim you neglectful.”

“You really are witches aren’t you?” The mother says anyway.

Stiles marches right up to her until he’s nose to nose.

“You would think best to watch your tongue around my children. I don’t go around telling yours how you slept around with most of the football team, do I?” He whispers. 

Visbily angered, the mother grabs her sons hand and runs off, the other children and parents right behind her. Stiles turns back to his girls, crouching down in front of Kira. 

“How long has this been happening? The electricity?” He asks. 

“Oh you care now?” Kira says stubbornly. 

“Sweetie, I’ve always cared.”

“Don’t lie! You’re only worried that people will think you’re a freak like us! You don’t get it and you wouldn’t even if you tried!” 

Kira grabs Allison’s hand and marches off to school, leaving Stiles speechless in front of his shop. 

So much for an easy opening day. 

 

***********

 

“…A kitsune?” He clarifies. 

After what he witnessed in the morning, he pulled his aunt and uncle aside to get answers. If anyone knew what Kira was going through, it would be them. 

“A thunder kistune to be exact.” Uncle Alan says. “Her powers are just manifesting which is a sign of supernatural maturity.”

“Supernatural matur- Yeah, sure, count on me to adopt the one child who ends up being a Japanese fox spirit.” Stiles says, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Are you saying this isn’t something you want to deal with?” Aunt Marin says. 

“One, don’t put words in my mouth. Two, I never said that. I’ll deal with it because it’s my duty as her father to do so.” Stiles glares at his aunt. “So what should I be expecting? Is any of this going to hurt?”

“No, it shouldn’t. She doesn’t have any kind of pull to any lunar or solar phases, and she won’t transform into anything. She’s a spirit, not a shape shifter. It should be pretty easy, she’ll just have some enhanced abilities. Speed, hearing, eyesight, maybe even healing. I don’t know much about Japanese lore, but I’m assuming those will be the basics.” Alan says. 

“Well thanks for nothing,” Stiles mumbles. “I’m going to head to bed then. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he heads up the many flights of stairs to his room. 

 

***********

 

_Dear Lydia,_

_Tonight marks a full month that Danny has been gone. Sometimes I still wake up and expect to see him next to me, sleeping soundly. Sometimes it feels like this could all be a dream and I’m going to wake up in my bed wrapped in his arms any minute. But that moment doesn’t come. Nothing comes, no sense of relief, no happiness, or sadness. I’m stuck in the middle of feeling like I’m not okay but I’m not going to die. Does that make any sense?_

_As I write this and look out to the night, I see the full moon. You know what that means, right? Be careful out there, we aren’t the scariest things around sometimes. I wonder if I’ll ever find that happiness I seek? Don’t get me wrong, my girls are my life and I wouldn’t exchange them for anything. But sometimes I get lonely and I don’t know how to fix that. I’m afraid of what happens if I let someone in again. I’m plagued with death, Lyds. But still I look out to the night in search for a sign, or even a man. But there is no sign, there is no man. Only that moon, and for now I guess that’s enough._

_Talk soon,_

_Stiles._

As Stiles puts his letter in the box and heads back inside, he can hear the phone ring from where he is. 

_Stiles…_

“Lydia,” He whispers as he runs back into the house in search of the phone. 

He catches it just before his aunt, ripping it off the receiver and putting it to his ear. 

“I’m here, I hear you, what’s wrong?” He says, listening to Lydia’s shuddery breaths. 

“I’m scared. I’ve made a horrible mistake, I need you to come get me.” She whispers. 

“Where? Where are you?” He asks. 

He writes down the address and runs upstairs for his things. When he comes back down, his aunt and uncle are waiting for him by the front door. 

“I’m taking the first flight out to Arizona. Make sure the girls get to school, tell them I love them and I’ll see them in a day.” He says. 

“Of course. We’ll take good care of them, we promise. We’ll take them to the druid gathering tomorrow!” Marin says. 

“No, no, no. Why can’t you guys just stay home this once?” He begs. 

“Oh we can’t do that, we’re presenting!” Alan says.

“Ugh, fine, but I do _not_ want them dancing naked under the full moon, understood?”

“Oh definitely, but the nakedness is optional as you well remember!” Marin says as he shuts the door behind him. 

 

***********

 

When Stiles gets out of the taxi in front of Lydia’s hotel, he runs to the information desk and demands the key for her room. He walks up the stairs slowly, finding her room and opening the door. 

“Lydia?” He calls out. 

“Stiles?” He hears. 

He walks farther in and finds Lydia sitting down next to the wall, clutching a silver knife to her chest. 

“Hey,” She says. “Come to rescue me?” 

She laughs nervously, pulling herself up and following Stiles out of the room. 

“Thank you for coming, I seriously didn’t know what else to do. I was so wrong about Peter. He’s a complete psychopath! We’ve been driving aimlessly, these zig-zags all over the Midwest. We finally stopped today and when I told him I was tired of being dragged everywhere with him, he bit me. The bastard fucking bit me.” She explains. 

Stiles freezes in place, turning to his sister. 

“Did you just say he bit you? Like, as in full on teeth on your body?” He asks, 

“yeah, I was getting to that. Stiles, he’s-“ 

Lydia is cut off when a dark figure comes out of the shadows, shoving her to the floor and slamming Stiles into the closest wall, pinning him there. 

“Ow! Jesus Christ, what the hell-“

A clawed hand covers Stiles’ face. 

He opens his eyes to peer through the fingers of the hand, catching the red, glowing gaze of the person who’s pinning him to the wall. He finishes Lydia’s sentence for her. 

_Werewolf. He’s a werewolf._ He thinks to himself. 

Peter Hale is an alpha werewolf. 

Lydia got herself involved with a fucking werewolf. 

“This is what is going to happen, little witch.” Peter says. “You’re going to go back to the taxi, pay them, and send them on their merry way. Then, you’re going to find your sister and I in my car parked out front. If you try to run or alert anyone of what is going on, I’ll kill her. Don’t be too long, I don’t want to ruin her beautiful face.” 

Stiles winces as a little more pressure is put on his face. 

His sister got involved with a fucking alpha werewolf. He can’t say that to himself enough. 

If he and Lydia make it out of this alive, he’s killing her himself. 

Reluctantly he does as he’s told, finding Lydia and Peter in the back of his car. 

“You’ll drive.” Peter says. 

As Stiles gets in the driver’s seat, a thought crosses his mind. 

“Hey Lyds, remember that remark you made about me and precog?” He asks. 

“Um…Yes?” She says. 

“Yeah, fuck you.” Stiles says. 

Lydia snorts before peter tells them both to shut up. 

Yeah, Stiles is definitely going to kill her if they survive this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm starting off already posting off schedule. Yay me! Sorry, y'all. I just had to work three nights of Widespread Panic and two nights of Queen with Adam Lambert! It was a crazy weekend!! 
> 
> Anyway, have belated 4th of July to anyone who celebrates it! 
> 
> Be sure to jump on over and check out Hold Me Tight (Within Your Clutch), the sequal to If There Are Boundaries! That will be updated at the end of the week! 
> 
> Comments and Feedback are always welcome!
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> -John


	4. Little Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Didn’t your mommy ever tell you not to light fires in the house?” He sneers._
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> _Stiles ignores him, swiping one of the matches against the box._
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> _“You want a spark, Peter?” He asks. “I’ll give you a spark.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please understand I have two stories going on right now at the same time. One is in present tense, one is in past tense. It's a little tricky for me to remember which is which sometimes. If you notice me jumping back and forth in this fic, please let me know so I can fix it! My story is not beta'd! All mistakes are mine.

As Stiles drives down the interstate, he steals glances in the rearview mirror to make sure Peter isn’t doing anything too crazy to Lydia. He’s been driving for close to two hours and is getting close to Nevada. Peter has yet to tell Stiles where they are going. 

“So do I get to know where it is you’re making me drive you to?” He asks. 

“Not yet, little witch.” Peter answers. 

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want and you best remember that.” He growls.

“I should inform you that I haven’t used magic in years. I’m not a witch.” 

“Just because you haven’t cast a spell doesn’t mean you aren’t of magical descent. A firefighter can retire and not pick up a hose for several years, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t remember how to use it.” Peter explains. 

Stiles hates that he’s right. 

“Tell me, how often do you rely on your connections to find your loved ones? How often do you stretch your hearing out too far for normal human beings? Do you still plant lavender for luck?” 

When Stiles doesn’t answer, Peter continues talking. 

“You don’t have to actively practice to be a witch, Mr. Stilinski. It’s in your blood.” 

Stiles’ knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. 

“What the hell do you know about my blood?” He sneers. 

Peter chuckles darkly, shoving Lydia into the door and lifting the side of her shirt to reveal an irritated bite wound. 

“I know quite a lot about _your_ blood, Stiles.” He says, licking against the jagged flesh and making Lydia whimper. 

“Hey, leave her alone you sick bastard!” Stiles shouts, reaching behind him and batting at Peter’s face. “Get your fucking fangs away from her!” 

“Watch the road!” Peter roars, his voice taking on a much deeper, scarier tone. 

“That’s right, fucker, your life is in _my_ hands right now. Get away from her or I’ll run us all off the road.” Stiles threatens. 

“Out of the three of us, who do you think is going to survive that?” 

“Don’t underestimate me, Peter. I spent my entire life being doubted, I won’t hesitate to bring you down with me. I’m not afraid of dying, my girls will be well cared for.” 

“You’re…You’re not lying.” Peter confirms. 

What scares Stiles isn’t that he’s right, it’s that peter sounds almost amused. 

“Get away from her,” Stiles repeats. “Or I’ll crash your car.” 

Peter stares at Stiles through the rearview for a long moment before throwing his head back and laughing. He scoots once away from Lydia but still keeps an arm around her. It’s progress. 

“You’re mighty brave, standing up to an alpha.” Peter comments. “Most people would be begging me to keep them alive.” 

“You don’t scare me,” Stiles says. “I’ve seen children scarier than you.” 

 

_Stiles…_

He looks at Lydia through the mirror, making eye contact with her.

_Stiles, my purse. It’s right next to you on the seat._

Lydia is talking to him through their connection. He hasn’t figured out if Peter can sense it too, but with the way the man is still talking, still thinking Stiles is listening, he’s assuming Peter is clueless. 

_Inside my purse is a bag of powdered wolfsbane. Blow it in his face to knock him out._

Stiles breaks eye contact to find Lydia’s purse. It’s right where she says it would be and he slowly reaches inside, careful not to alert Peter of any funny business. When he locates the bag in question, he slowly opens it to retrieve some of the powder. 

Just as he gets a handful, he hears Lydia whimper again. I looks up to see Peter has crept back into her space and he’s reaching his hands around her neck. 

“Woah, what are you doing?” Stiles asks. “Answer me you prick! Get away from her!”

“Shut up, your turn will come soon enough. I have no need for either of you anymore.” Peter says, gripping Lydia’s neck so she squeaks, trying to breathe. 

“Get off of her! Get off!” Stiles shouts, throwing the handful of wolfsbane right into Peter’s face. 

Peter roars, thrashing around in the backseat as Lydia shoves herself into the foot area to avoid being clawed. Stiles isn’t so lucky, getting clawed across the back of his shoulder and making him veer off the road. He pulls the car into a ditch as Peter’s roars die and he begins to choke and gasp for air. When Stiles turns around after stopping the car, he finds Peter’s red eyes slowly fading as the werewolf lets out a final breath. 

Lydia jumps up and checks his pulse and looks to Stiles with a horrified expression. 

“Jesus Christ, Stiles, you killed him!” She shouts, getting out of the car and pulling Peter out with her. 

“You told me to throw it in his face!” Stiles shouts back, getting out and following her. 

Lydia is attempting CPR on Peter, throwing Stiles a glare. 

“No, I told you to _blow_ it into his face! It’s less concentrated that way!” 

“Well excuse the fuck out of me! How the hell was I supposed to know? I don’t use wolfsbane on a daily basis, Lydia! He was trying to kill you.” Stiles says, pacing behind his sister. 

“If you didn’t know he was a werewolf until tonight, why the hell did you have that shit anyway?”

“I had a hunch!” 

Lydia gives up on the CPR, getting up and pacing the opposite way. 

“What the hell are we going to do?” She asks aloud. 

“We have to go to the police, we were protecting ourselves.” 

“Ha! Right! Because they’re going to believe that. Stiles, we literally just made a man overdose. The evidence is all over that fucking car!” Lydia says, gesturing to the vehicle in question. 

“Well then what the hell do we do? I’m not going to Jail for you, Lydia. I have children.” 

“Oh, you weren’t too upset about dying earlier and leaving them behind, what the fuck’s changed?” 

“Don’t throw that in my face, I was trying to protect you like I always fucking do.” 

“I didn’t ask you to.” 

“Yes you did! You literally fucking did! You called me and asked me to save you!” Stiles shouts at her. “If you didn’t get yourself involved in all this we wouldn’t fucking be here right now. It’s all your fault!” 

Lydia looks as if Stiles just slapped her. 

“That’s not fair…” She says. 

Stiles stops pacing, walking right up to her. 

“No, you know what isn’t fair? The fact that I asked you, practically _begged_ you to just stay in Beacon Hills. Instead you go back to _this_ fucking psychopath! Who turns out to be an Alpha to God only knows what kind of crazy, psychotic pack. I have to take a fucking red eye to Arizona and take a cab to get you, just to have my life threatened. I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS! TELL ME HOW _THAT’S_ FAIR?” Stiles screams, making everything go quiet.

For a while, the only sound is the cars on the interstate buzzing by. 

“Did he have a pack?” Stiles asks. 

“What?” 

“A pack, did he have betas? I need to know if anyone is coming after us.” He says. 

“No, he was trying to rebuild. He bit me thinking I would turn, he found out I was immune after tasting my blood. He left in a rage.” Lydia explains. “Hey, your shoulder…” 

She points to Stiles’ bloody shirt. He completely forgot he was even injured until she pointed it out. 

“I’ll live,” He says. “Immune, remember?”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“So what do we do? We can’t just leave him on the side of the road, it’ll get back to us.” 

“I’m thinking,” Lydia says. “There has to be something we can do. Something that can either make the body disappear or some-“ 

She stops talking when an idea pops into her head. Lydia looks from the car to Peter’s body and back several times before her eyes rest on Stiles. 

“Oh man, I really don’t like that look.” He says.

She ignores him.

“If we got in the car in the next three minutes, how long would it take to get to Beacon Hills from here?” 

“Lydia we’re just outside of Nevada,” Stiles reminds her. “It’d take at least a day and that’s if I floored it, but you’re forgetting about the whole speeding thing being illegal.” 

“I’ll cast a spell to conceal us from any and everything.” She says. 

Because of course Lydia has been casting for her own selfish needs. Stiles is not surprised in the slightest, he’s more surprised that she’s not gotten herself killed yet.

“Why don’t you just tell me the stupid idea you have so I can just say no?” Stiles suggests. 

“The resurrection spell.” 

“No.” 

“But Stiles-“

“I said no,” He says. “The guardians were right, it wouldn’t Peter that came back. It would be something dark and unnatural.” 

“Stiles, he’s already dark and unnatural! I don’t care what he comes back as, as long as he has a fucking pulse!” 

“No, no way. There has to be another choice.”

“There is no other choice, Stiles, this _is_ our choice!” 

“I said no!”

 

Stiles finds himself an hour later going over a hundred miles an hour down an interstate somewhere in Nevada while Lydia concealed their vehicle from human eyes. With the rate he was going, they were almost into California. The sun was just rising and the port to Beacon Hills was located somewhere outside of Salinas. They would make it by nightfall if they didn’t have to stop too much. 

“How fast are you going?” Lydia asks. 

“A hundred and ten.” Stiles answers. 

“Can you go faster?”

“No, the car won’t go any farther.” 

“I can fix that,” She says, mumbling under her breath before the car jolts alive and goes even faster down the road. “He’s starting to smell, we need to get to the house soon.” 

“We’ll be there by nightfall,” He repeats. “No one will be home.” 

“Good, the fewer questions asked the better. We’ll get him inside, bring him back to life, and kick him into the water. What he does after that is all on him.”

“Are you sure he’s going to leave?”

“He’s going to have to or we’ll do something.” Lydia says. 

“Like what, Lyds?”

She doesn’t answer him. 

Stiles has a horrible feeling resting in the pit of his stomach. 

 

***********

 

Hours later, while it’s raining because of course it’s raining, Stiles and Lydia drag Peter’s body into the house. 

Like he suspected, there is no one home. The guardians stayed true to their promise of taking Allison and Kira to the druid gathering. He’s sure he’ll see his girls in the morning. 

“Why the hell are dead people so heavy?” Stiles asks out of breath. 

“Stiles shut up and pull!” Lydia hisses. 

As they get him past the door, Peter’s head slams into the frame. Stiles attempts to feel bad about it but it’s in vain. 

They manage to get Peter onto the table in the middle of the kitchen, Stiles telling Lydia to get his shirt off while he gets the book and ingredients for the spell. He goes into the special room that holds everything Alan and Marin use for spells and incantations. Just being in the room makes him uneasy. Stiles swore he would never touch this part of his life again. Of course it finds ways to sneak back. He grabs the book, mountain ash, untreated wolfsbane, and several other materials before going back out to the kitchen. 

When he enters he finds Lydia smacking a dead Peter across the face. 

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks. 

“Um…Nothing. Do you have everything?” Lydia asks, hoping to get the subject away from her. 

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “Lydia, are you _sure_ you want to do this? Like positively positive?” 

She takes a minute to look back at the corpse on the table before answering her brother. 

“Positively positive,” She confirms. “I just want him alive and out of my life.” 

“Let’s hope he isn’t the clingy kind then.” Stiles mumbles, throwing a handful of mountain ash into the air and watching it fall into a perfect circle around them and the table.

“Since he’s your psychotic boyfriend, you get to carve the spiral into his chest.” Stiles says. “We need some of his blood while you’re at it.” 

“Stiles he’s been dead for almost a day, I don’t know if his blood is even good anymore.” Lydia says. 

“Even if it just stains the knife that’ll be good,” He clarifies. “Quit staring at me and starting carving! The spiral needs to go out three times.” 

Lydia sighs, picking up the double sided knife and piercing Peter’s chest. She carves the spiral like instructed, examining the knife and looking confused. 

“That’s…concerning. His blood doesn’t seem to be the least bit coagulated…” She says thoughtfully. 

“It must be a werewolf thing,” Stiles says. “We don’t know much about them.” 

“Well no, but I don’t think this is a werewolf thing.” 

“Do you want to stop? I mean you’ve already stabbed the guy.”

“Don’t be sassy, just keep prepping the spell.” Lydia says, handing him the bloody knife. 

Stiles dips the blade into a bowl of water mixed with wolfsbane and mistletoe, mumbling under his breath some of the words on the page. The bowl begins to steam but is still cool to touch. Stiles’ eyebrows knit together as he looks at his sister. 

“Do you have any idea how unnerving it is that I have no idea what the fuck I’m saying?” He says. 

“I told you to study your Archaic Latin.” 

“ _’I told you to study your Archaic Latin’_ ” He mimics back at her. “Just shut up and pick up the knife with me. We need to drive it into his heart together while we speak the rest of the spell.”

Lydia raises an eyebrow.

“We have to stab him in the heart…to get it beating again?” She asks. 

Stiles shrugs. 

“You wanted to do this. According to this we need to give something in order to receive it. They want the dead guy’s heart.” He explains. “I’m not gonna argue with a spell generations older than me.” 

Lydia sighs, reaching for the blade the same time as her brother and bringing it to Peter’s cold skin. They lock eyes for a moment before nodding together and sinking the blade into Peter’s heart. 

They begin to chant in unison. 

_Nunc in vigilia mortuorum…_

The air around them feels electric, buzzing in their ears and charging their energy. Stiles can tell the moment the spell begins to work.

_iterum vivere…_

The bowl of mistletoe and wolfsbane begins to smoke again, fumigating the area within the circle and somehow resting along the outline of Peter’s corpse. Nothing seems to escape the mountain ash circle.

_spirant autem nova caeli…_

After the smoke stills it enters Peter’s body through his nose and mouth as if he’s breathing it in. The air charges itself even more as Lydia and Stiles watch each other’s words.

_ab aeterna caligine…_

Stiles feels Peter’s heart beat against the knife.

_et ambules in viis tuis denuo…_

Peter let’s out an ungodly roar, swiping clawed hands at the siblings. They narrowly avoid being hit by jumping just outside the circle of mountain ash. Stiles quickly gets up and walks around the circle to find Lydia staring at Peter with wide eyes. 

He’s clawing against the mountain ash barrier, roaring himself hoarse. His eyes are glowing red but what should be white is all black, showing that he truly is a monster now. 

“He’s…He’s feral.” Lydia says. 

“I warned you,” Stiles says. “This was your bright idea, now what do we do?”

As Stiles talks Peter becomes more aware of his surroundings, looking down at the knife sticking out of his chest. He wraps a clawed hand around the handle and rips it out none too gently, letting it drop to the floor in a loud clang. 

His irises slowly fade to a regular blue, looking anything but natural against their black setting.

“You brought me back.” Peter states, slowly pacing the inside of the circle. 

“It was never our intention to kill you.” Lydia says. 

“Speak for yourself.” Stiles mumbled, earning himself an elbow in the side. 

“Now that you’re back, you will leave us alone. You’ll go back to land, away from Beacon Hills, and never seek us out again.” Lydia explains. “There are no other choices.” 

Peter tosses his head back in laughter, filling the room with the unsettling sound. 

“Who are you to tell me what I am going to do?” He asks. “If you wanted me to leave you alone, you should have kept me dead you unbelievable morons.” 

Stiles glares at Peter, fists forming at his sides. The rain outside is beginning to come down harder as lightening cracks in the sky. 

“We’re giving you a chance to live, you dickbag, I’d take it if I were you.” He says. 

“Or you’ll what? Kill me again? I’m terrified, really.” Peter smirks. “I’m not leaving until I get what I’ve been searching for.” 

“And what is that exactly?” Lydia asks, crossing her arms. 

“Your blood.”

The blood in question, Stiles’ blood, runs cold at the thought. 

“Why? Why do you want our blood?” He asks. 

“You have no idea what runs through your veins, do you? You both are so unbelievable ignorant and clueless to what you hold within you.” Peter says. “Your bloodline is one of the oldest in the world, and it falls onto your shoulders. If other supernatural creatures knew of your existence, there would be a war on your hands. _For_ your hands.” 

“I don’t understand, we’re witches like any other. There isn’t anything special about us.” Lydia says. 

“On the contrary,” Peter says. “You aren’t just witches. You’re the strongest sparks in the world right now, and if I can’t have you at my side, I’ll kill you so no one else can use you against me.” 

“That’s not classical super villain-esque at all,” Stiles mumbles. “Is this where we’re supposed to tell you we won’t go willingly?” 

Peter’s eyes bleed red once again, the claws coming back out. 

“No, this is where I’m finished talking and just ready to take action.” He says, pushing against the barrier again. 

This time is different, though. The barrier makes a low moaning sound against Peter’s force, bulging outwards and ready to break. Lydia takes a few steps back, looking around for something to arm herself with. 

Growing impatient with how slow the barrier is losing power, Peter begins to go feral again, slashing at the invisible wall in irritation. 

“I’m going to _kill_ you!” He roars. 

Stiles acts quickly, turning and running for the cupboard closest to the back door and pulling out a can of lighter fluid and a box of matches. He races back to Lydia who looks determined but is shaking violently in fear. He opens the lighter fluid and starts spraying it at Peter who bats at it in frustration. When the can is empty, he tosses it aside and lifts the box of matches. Peter realizes what Stiles plans to do, looking around with nowhere to go, trapped in the circle.

“Didn’t your mommy ever tell you not to light fires in the house?” He sneers. 

Stiles ignores him, swiping one of the matches against the box. 

“You want a spark, Peter?” He asks. “I’ll give you a spark.”

He flicks the match into the circle, lighting Peter up in a burst of flames. The undead werewolf swipes desperately at the air, roaring loudly as his skin burns. He slams his body against the barrier in attempts to weaken it quicker and get out. Stiles grabs Lydia and wraps her in an embrace, shielding her eyes from the gore at hand. As Peter slides to the ground, his red eyes dim as the life leaves his body for a second time. 

Silently, Stiles wills the flames to stay within the circle, hoping he won’t have to pay to replace the floorboards. He’s sure Lydia knows some kind of spell to help with scorch marks. 

Later in the night when the rain has stopped, Stiles and Lydia dig a hole together, burying Peter on the very end of their land just before the drop off into the ocean. 

“Stiles,” Lydia says as they walk back inside. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re my brother.” 

And yeah, she better be. Because Stiles is so done with werewolves and undead things and red anything. 

“You owe me big time for all of this. I’m talking kegs and strippers.” He jokes, pulling his sister in for another embrace. 

They sleep together, wrapped in each other’s warmth and protection. 

 

***********

 

The next day, Stiles feels the connections before he even sees his girls. He opens his eyes and finds Lydia missing. If he digs deep enough, he can find her in the kitchen, pacing the floor in a nervous fit. 

When he pads down the stairs, She meets him at the foot, rubbing her hands on her pants for probably not the first time. 

“What if they don’t like me?” She asks. 

Stiles shakes his head. 

“We just killed your boyfriend twice, and you’re scared that my daughters won’t like you? You’re an Enigma, Lyds.” 

Before she can answer him with some snide remark, the front door opens up and Kira and Allison come running in. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Oh my God we had so much fun last night!” Allison shouts. 

“Yeah, Aunt Marin let us dance under the moon!” Kira says excited. 

“Naked!” Allison shouts some more. 

Stiles throws a dirty look toward his aunt and uncle before looking back at his girls. 

“Kira, Allison, I have someone I want you to meet.” He says. 

He points to Lydia who looks like she’s about to pass out from nerves. 

“This is-“

“Aunt Lydia.” Kira whispers. 

“Oh wow, she’s so pretty!” Allison whispers to Kira. 

For a short moment, no one breathes. 

“Yay! Aunt Lydia is home!” Allison screams. 

“Can you braid my hair?” Kira asks. “Daddy said you’re really good at it. He tries but he’s totally not a hair person, he always ends up tying my hair in a knot and my hair isn’t even supposed to knot that easily!” 

“Can I call you Aunt Lyds? Daddy calls you Lyds all the time!” Allison says. 

Lydia doesn’t know what to do with all the attention, she bends down to the girls’ level.

“First, you girls can call me whatever you want. Within reason.” She says with a wink. “And second, of _course_ I’ll braid your hair!” 

The girls tackle Lydia with hugs, shoving her into another room so they can talk and catch up. Marin and Alan stare at Stiles with a knowing look. 

“Something happened last night,” Marin states. “We’ll be looking for an explanation tonight.” 

They walk past Stiles and up the stairs. He’s really not looking forward to that conversation. 

 

***********

 

When the girls are in bed and asleep for school the next day, Stiles and Lydia find their guardians in the kitchen, conveniently in front of where the scorch marks used to be. 

“There is a feeling of death in our home,” Alan says. “Why?”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lydia says with a shrug. 

“Do not try to lie to us,” Marin says. “We grew up in this home. We know when the atmosphere is different.” 

Stiles looks his aunt in the eyes. 

“We had a problem and we handled it. There’s nothing to else say.” He says. 

Marin looks from him to Lydia and back. 

“When you lie to your family, enemies are made.” She says. 

Stiles glares. 

“You should practice what you preach.” He says. 

Silence falls as the tension makes itself known between the four people. 

“Very well,” Alan says. “It’s obvious when we’re not needed.”

“I think it’s time to go.” Marin agrees. “We’ll be gone for an undisclosed amount of time, sort your business out while we’re away.”

As they walk past Stiles and Lydia, Marin stops right in front of the former. 

“If my home isn’t fixed before we return, you’ll answer to _me_.” She says. 

Stiles knows when he’s being threaten, but he’ll never admit to the chill that goes down his spine. 

The siblings share a look before silently heading upstairs to bed. 

Lydia promises to get the girls up and ready for school so Stiles is able to sleep in. He can’t thank her enough. 

 

***********

 

He wakes to the insistent knocking at the front door. Peering at his clock, he sees it’s nine O’clock on the dot. Cursing, he gets out of bed and throws on a shirt and pants, stomping his way down the steps. 

The knocking doesn’t let up until he opens the door. 

“Yes, I heard you the first thirteen hundred times. What in God’s name can I help you with this early in the damn morning?” He snaps. 

He properly opens his eyes to find a pair of hazel ones staring back at him. Hazel eyes that are connected to a man around the same height as him and a decent bout of five O’clock shadow going on. 

“Good morning to you too,” The man says. “I’m assuming you’re Mr. Lechoslaw Stilinski?”

Stiles cringes at the use of his first name. The man continues on. 

“I’m Detective Derek Hale from New York, I’m working on a case and have reason to believe you may be able to help me.” 

Stiles has yet to find his voice again, staring at the man in front of him. Now that his eyes have adjusted to the sunlight, he can see Detective Hale holding up a badge with the letters NYPD branded across it. He looks back at the man’s face. 

_Oh no_ , Stiles thinks to himself. _He’s hot._

“Mr. Lechoslaw?” Detective Hale asks. 

“Stiles,” he corrects. “Please just say Stiles.”

He steps aside, letting the detective inside.

Clearly the universe is trying to kill him. It may just succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so...A couple of things.  
> 1\. When writing Peter, he kind of got away from me. I don't know where HALF that shit came from, but I'm actually impressed.  
> 2\. I'm trying a little something new with Lydia. We always see her as this self righteous, courageous girl. While I LOVE that, I want to add a little more realisticness to her that I feel a lot of fanfictions sometimes miss. (I know realisticness isn't a word. Work with me here.)  
> 3\. While this is based on a Practical Magic AU, it is still just that: an AU. That being said, I'm taking full advantage of that and creating a bit of my own little world in this. Think of it as more of a homage to Practical Magic rather than a replica.  
> 4\. Call me stupid, blind, dumb, or whatever. I couldn't find an Archaic Latin translator, so unfortunately the words are in just regular Latin...Is there much of a difference? I sound so uneducated I'm so sorry lol. I will attach a direct translation of the cheesy spell I wrote up at the bottom of this!  
> 5\. Maybe my mom's just insane, does anyone else have a cupboard right next to their back door or close to it, filled with bbq equipment like lighter fluid, matches, charcoal, etc? Is that just me? Am I more redneck than I think we are? Which makes no sense considering I'm a city boy....I'm talking to much. ANYWAY!
> 
> Please also jump on over and read my other story, [Hold Me Tight (Within Your Clutch)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1897854/chapters/4091328)! It is the second part in my Latch series! (Some shameless promotion, not gonna lie.)
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome. 
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!
> 
> -John
> 
>  
> 
> **English Translation of the resurrection spell:**
> 
>  
> 
> awake now the dead
> 
> live once more 
> 
> breathe now a new air
> 
> free of eternal darkness
> 
> walk your path once more


	5. Mazel Tov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Have you heard from your sister lately, Mr. Stilinski?” Derek asks._
> 
>  
> 
> _It’s a test. He can’t tell how he knows that, but Stiles is being set up to see if he’ll lie._
> 
>  
> 
> _“If you’ve truly done your research as thoroughly as I’m assuming, then you already know the answer.” He says instead._
> 
>  
> 
> _Derek stares at him for a moment. Stiles can tell he’s fighting a smirk from reaching his lips._

As Stiles closes the door behind his guest, he mentally smacks himself. He just willingly let an officer of the law into his home. Well, that’s what he’s supposed to do, but not while he has the body of his sister’s lunatic ex-boyfriend decomposing in his back yard. Not to mention, Stiles feels strange being around this man. Almost like there’s a small pull. Or that could just be his dick talking. 

No. 

No, Stiles is a widower, fresh on the dead husband market. He has no business thinking with his other brain so soon. Shame on him. It takes him a second to register that Detective Hale has asked him a question. 

“I’m sorry, what? I’m still waking up here.” Stiles says. 

“I asked where your children were.” Detective Hale repeats. 

Stiles watches the detective closely, raising an eyebrow at his question. 

“I don’t recall ever mentioning I have children.” He says, crossing his arms. 

The detective nods, picking up a knickknack from the mantle over the fireplace and examining it. 

“I did my research,” He says simply. “Are they not home?”

“It’s Monday…” Stiles says slowly, hoping the detective is smart enough to realize what he’s hinting at. 

“Oh, right, school. You know, while I’m on the topic, I find it quite interesting that you adopted at such a young age.” 

“Alright look, Detective Hale –“

“Call me Derek.” Derek interrupts.

“-Derek. First, it’s none of your business as to why I adopted so young. Secondly, do my girls have something to do with your case?” Stiles asks.

“Well no, I was just-“

“Then leave them out of this.” It was Stiles’ turn to interrupt and he felt damn proud of it. 

“Right, that was rude of me.” 

“Very,” He says. “Now what can I do for you?” 

“Have you heard from your sister lately, Mr. Stilinski?” Derek asks. 

It’s a test. He can’t tell how he knows that, but Stiles is being set up to see if he’ll lie. 

“If you’ve truly done your research as thoroughly as I’m assuming, then you already know the answer.” He says instead. 

Derek stares at him for a moment. Stiles can tell he’s fighting a smirk from reaching his lips. 

“You’re right,” Derek says. “I do know the answer. Is she home?” 

“I can see if she’s awake, wait here please.” He says, heading toward the stairs. 

Stiles turns around before beginning his ascension.

“Out of curiosity, am I allowed to know what the case is about?” 

“It involves a serial killer. I have reason to believe your sister may have been involved with him.” 

“Right, and where do I fit into this?” Stiles asks. 

Derek shrugs, pulling out a letter from his jacket pocket. Stiles’ letter. The one he sent to Lydia just before going to get her.

“That’s my letter,” He reiterates. “My very personal letter.”

“Yes it is, and yes it is.” Derek answers. 

Stiles glares, not saying anything else, and turning back to stomp up the stairs. How the hell did _Detective Hale_ even get that letter? How did he get it so quickly? It’d only been a couple of days since the whole incident. 

He makes it to Lydia’s room and finds her cross-legged on the floor with earphones on. She looks like she is meditating which would make Stiles laugh any other time than now. 

“Lydia,” He tries, tapping his foot in front of her. “Lydia!” 

She opens her eyes, startled for a moment, before glaring at her brother. 

“This better be important, I was in the middle of my meditation cycle!” She hisses. 

“Does having a New York detective roaming around the downstairs count as important?”

“Wait, what?” 

“I didn’t stutter. There is a detective downstairs from _New York_ and he’s here to ask you and I some questions regarding a _serial killer_. Did you know they had Peter listed as a fucking Serial Ki-“ Stiles stops talking when his brain puts two and two together. 

“Wait, Stiles, did he say serial killer? Did he specifically say Peter?” Lydia asks. 

“Wait…Hale. Peter Hale.”

“…Did you hit your head on the way up here?” 

“No, shut up for a minute. Peter Hale. The detective downstairs is Derek Hale. Oh my God, Lydia, what if they were partners? What if they were brothers and we just killed his brother? Jesus fucking Christ, Lydia, you said he didn’t have a pack!” 

“He didn’t! He told me he didn’t even have any family! Are you _sure_ he’s here about Peter?” She asks. 

“The night I went to get you, I sent you a letter. He has the letter. He says it brought him here. It _has_ to be about Peter. I wonder if he’s been intersecting our letters this whole time? Oh God, Lydia, we’re gonna die. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to my girls!” Stiles can’t make complete sentences, he’s on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Okay, listen. You’re not going to die. You’re going to go back downstairs and talk to him and I’ll be down when I’ve dressed better. If he was a werewolf, he wouldn’t have been able to get into the house without my knowledge.” Lydia says. 

“And why is that?”

“Because I wiggled my fingers and made a little charm. Supernatural creatures can’t come into this house unless they’re involved with the family.” She says, smirking in pride. 

“Oh Jesus Christ, whatever just hurry up. I want him out of here.” Stiles says, heading back downstairs. 

When he gets there, he finds Derek roaming around the kitchen, confusion etched across his features as he stares at a double sided blade on the cutting board. 

“It’s a bit of an inside joke with the family,” Stiles explains. “There’s a set of them in the cupboard just above you.” 

“What kind of inside joke would that be?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time.” Stiles says. 

And _what_? No, there will be no other time. He wants Derek gone ASA fucking P. Stiles doesn’t like the feeling he gets when Derek looks at him the way he’s looking at him now. He’s about to say something to the detective when Lydia comes into the room. 

“Hello Detective Hale,” She says, almost seductively. “To what do I owe the honor?” 

“Ms. Stilinski, how are you today?” Derek asks, reaching his hand out to shake. 

When Lydia holds on for a little too long, he pulls it back with a bored expression. Clearly he’s used to being flirted with in attempts to get out of stuff. Stiles would laugh if he didn’t despise the guy so much. 

“I have reason to think you may have some information regarding a case of mine. I believe you’re familiar with Peter Hale?” He asks. 

Stiles’ blood runs cold at the name. 

“Wait a minute,” he says. “Isn’t there like a rule against officers working on stuff involving their family?” 

He’s hoping to catch Derek in a lie. If they have to kill another person, well, they have a big back yard. Oh God, he’s starting to sound like Erica. 

“Typically yes, but considering no one has ever been able to figure my uncle out, they assigned me to the case.” Derek explained. 

So Peter was his uncle, not his brother. Stiles feels more relieved than he should. 

“I haven’t seen Peter in almost a week,” Lydia lies. “He went crazy on me and I left him.” 

“Crazy? How did he go crazy?” Derek asks. 

“He tried to bite me.” Lydia lies again. 

Derek stills at the answer. If Stiles watches closely, he can see Derek twitch, but Stiles doesn’t want to focus that much attention on the man. 

“He…tried to bite you? You’re sure he didn’t succeed?”

“I believe I would be a little more concerned if he succeeded.” Lydia says. 

“Right, how did you escape?” 

“Well I-“

“I went and got her.” Stiles interrupts. 

He regrets ever opening his mouth. Now all the attention is on him and he _hates_ being the focus. 

“She called me and I flew out to her a couple of days ago.” 

“I thought she said she left him a week ago?” Derek asks. 

“She did, but I went to get her a couple of days ago and bring her home.” 

“And what were you doing for a week, Ms. Stilinski?” 

“Oh please, call me Lydia.” Lydia says. 

“Lydia,” Derek says, frustrated. “Answer the question.”

“I was just driving. I was in a hotel before Stiles came out to get me. We drove back in my car.” 

“Your car? The car out front with the New York license plates?” He asks. 

When he gets a slow nod from Lydia, he rolls his eyes. 

“Lydia, that’s Peter’s car. It’s registered under his name.” 

“Right, she stole it.” Stiles says. 

Derek slowly turns his head to him, making him mentally smack himself again. 

“She stole it to get away and we drove all the way back here. You can totally take it back, though. I mean, obviously we committed a crime. Well not we, just her. Because that sounds just like her. Not that she’s a criminal! She just makes stupid decisions, like the boys she involves herself with. Right Lyds? Of course I’m right. I mean first there was this one guy who like…memorized her whole schedule in high school, it was really creepy. He would try to sneak pictures of her all the time and like hang them up on his wall. She didn’t know about it until she started dating him and went to his house. It was really weird. But now we’re on your uncle who I’m sure was a complete psychopath. No offense to you.” Stiles can’t turn his mouth off no matter how hard he tries. 

“Was?” Derek asks. 

“I…I’m sorry?”

“You said was, as in he isn’t here anymore.” 

“Oh, did I? I was just…talking…Which I’m going to stop doing.” Stiles says. 

“Right, well I think we all know there are holes in your story that I’m going to find out somehow. I wouldn’t leave town if I were you. I’m going to check out the car and then be on my way for now, someone will be by to tow it by tonight. Have a good day, Stiles.” Derek says, staring at Stiles for a moment before heading out the door. 

“Jesus Christ,” Stiles says. “What the hell is wrong with me?” 

“I’m about to ask you the same question. Have you lost your mind?” Lydia asks. 

“What are we going to do? Did you clean the powder off the seats?” 

“Of course I did! What kind of idiot do you think I am?” 

“Oh don’t start with me, I’m not in the mood for your attitude.” He says. 

“No, but it seems like Detective Hale is in the mood for you.” Lydia smirks.

“What? No. Absolutely not. He’s just trying to solve his case and he’ll be on his way. Besides, I’m not even interested. He’s definitely attractive, but the whole evil eyes and judgment eyebrows are not my thing.” He says, his sister still smirking at him. “I just killed my Husband, Lydia.” 

“Hey, I never said to pursue anything, I just said he was interested in you.”

“No he isn’t. Stop imagining stuff.” Stiles says, waving her off and walking to the window to see if Derek was snooping around the yard.

“Believe what you want to believe, dear brother, but he only told _you_ to have a good day.” Lydia says, heading back upstairs. 

Stiles side-glances his sister, glaring hard enough to make sure she feels it dig into the back of her head. He turns his attention back to Derek who has all four doors of the car open. He looks as if he’s… _sniffing_ the interior, bent over the driver seat. After a few minutes, Derek shoves himself out of the car and sneezes violently, rubbing at his nose. Stiles snorts hard from the window. 

When he’s composed himself he looks back at Derek…to find the man staring back. Stiles gasps, pulling the curtain back and backing away from the glass. There was no way Derek heard him laughing at him. Deciding to just get on with his day, Stiles retreats into the greenhouse to pull ingredients to make more soap. 

 

***********

 

“Wow Stiles, this stuff is great!” Lydia exclaims, a cigarette in her mouth. 

Stiles has regretted hiring Lydia since the moment she walked into work this morning. She’s done nothing but sit down and boss him, Erica, and Scott around while she helps herself to the products at hand. 

“You know Lydia, I was under the impression that when I hired you to work, you were actually going to work.” He says, walking over and snatching the bottle of lotion from Lydia’s hand and the cigarette from her mouth.

“So,” He continues. “If you’re not going to, get out.”

“Hey, I was working! I was testing the merchandise!” She says. 

He can hear Erica snort behind him, covering it up with a cough. 

“Whatever, I can’t deal with this right now. Scott, you know where to find me if something’s wrong. Erica, if she doesn’t do something in the next five minutes, pick her up and throw her out.” Stiles says, walking out of the store. 

He hears Lydia say “go ahead, girl, see how far you get.” Before he slams the door behind him. 

The night before, Kira came home with a parent letter asking Stiles to come in for a meeting during lunch. Kira claimed not to know what it was about which concerned him.

Stiles hates going to the school only because no one looks at him like a parent. Sure, he’s really young for a parent, but he can’t explain the pull he felt when he saw Kira and Allison for the first time. They just felt like they belonged to him, but he doesn’t expect other parents to understand that. Even though Danny was the same age as Stiles, they respected the former more. It hurts sometimes thinking about it, knowing that he will never be what the teachers expect for Kira and Allison. He’ll just have to prove them wrong. Somehow. 

When he gets to the school and Kira’s classroom, he knocks twice on the door to alert the teacher of his presence. She motions for him to come in, pulling a chair in front of her desk for him. 

“Stiles, thank you so much for meeting me on such short notice.” She says. 

“The perks of having your own business,” He jokes. “I just hope there’s nothing too worrisome?”

“Well, not academically no.” The teacher, Mrs. McIntire if he remembers correctly, says. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m following?” He says as he sits down.

“Well you see, academically Kira is my best student. However, her attitude has changed drastically in the last month.” 

“With all due respect, Mrs. McIntire, her Papa died a month ago. It’s kind of expected for her to be sad right now.” 

“If she were sad, I wouldn’t be concerned.” Mrs. McIntire said. “She’s not sad, Stiles, she’s angry.” 

“I…I think I know what you’re talking about.” He admits. 

Over the course of the month since Danny’s passing, Kira had become more and more closed off. Stiles was the idiot who chose to ignore it, but now he’s finding out she’s showing it in school. He’s going to have to talk to her and get to the bottom of it. 

“Kira is always angry now, no one can go near her. She doesn’t like working in groups and sometimes when I catch a glimpse of her, she has her hands in fists under the table. It’s not healthy for a girl her age to have so much anger.” Mrs. McIntire says.

“I guess I’ll have to talk to her about that, then.” 

“She told me you detached yourself from her and her sister?” 

“Excuse me? No. I did not ‘detach’ myself from anyone. I had a couple of days where I didn’t see anyone because I was grieving. I’ve been with my girls every step of the way in this.” Stiles says. 

“Well according to her you haven’t. Look, it might not all be grief. Girls her age go through changes all the time. I’m sure she’s on her way to starting puberty if she hasn’t already. It’s natural for them to have mood swings, but it seems like she’s constantly angry.” 

“I’ll have a talk with her tonight. If what you’re suggesting is true, I’ll have to pull out those helpful pamphlets the nurse gave me at the start of school.” He jokes. “I’ll get to the bottom of this, Mrs. McIntire.”

“Stiles, might I suggest maybe letting someone else better equipped handle the talk of puberty?” 

“Excuse me? Who is to say I’m not equipped?” Stiles knows he sounds completely stupid even as the words fall out of his mouth. “That’s not what I meant. She’s my daughter and I’m going to help her through this.” 

“Well perhaps she didn’t tell you because she doesn’t trust you? From what I gather, Danny was the one-“ 

“Oh I see what this is about. You’re on their side.” Stiles interrupts. 

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not on anyone’s side, I’m only trying to help.” Mrs. McIntire attempts to cover herself.

“No, you’re trying to make me feel like I’m unfit to be a parent. I understand Danny dealt with their school stuff more than me, but now I’m starting to realize I made a horrible mistake in just letting things go. This whole town thinks I’m a wackjob, and from what _I’m_ gathering, you’re right there with them. 

“Let me make something clear, Mrs. McIntire. I don’t care what any of you say about me and my family, I don’t care that you all think I supposedly killed my own husband, and I especially don’t care what _your_ assumptions are of me as a parent.” Stiles says. “I’m a damn good father to those girls and I would _never_ let anything happen to them. So long as I’m living and breathing, they have someone fighting for them. I’m sorry I fell into a bout of depression, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you sit there and attempt to make me feel like I should give up before I’ve started.” Stiles lifts himself from his seat, brushing his jeans off. 

“Now, if that’s all, I’d like to get back to my store so I can close early and be home in time for Kira and Allison.” He says. 

“I…Yes, nothing more.” Mrs. McIntire says quietly. 

“Thank you for your time.” Stiles is out of the door and heading back to his store before the teacher can see him shaking. 

 

***********

 

When Stiles finally makes it home, he finds a car he doesn’t recognize in the driveway and a man he definitely recognizes in the back yard. 

“Excuse me,” Stiles hollers. “Unless you have a valid search warrant, get the hell out of my yard.” 

Derek looks up from where he’s crouched by a bush of wolfsbane – when did that get there? – and stands to meet Stiles at the porch. 

“Sorry, you weren’t home so I thought I’d wait.” He says as a way of explanation. 

“Well waiting usually means sitting in your car or on my porch, not snooping around my house.” 

“I was just doing my job, Mr. Stilisnki.”

“For the last damn time, call me Stiles, and I don’t know how they do it in New York but out here in California, we respect each other’s privacy.” Stiles says. 

Well, at least he’s hoping they do it that way in California. Stiles doesn’t have very much to go off of. 

Derek rolls his eyes. 

“My apologies,” He grounds out. “I’d like to ask you a few more questions if that’s alright.” 

“I’ll see if Lydia is home, but if not one answered the door-“

“Not Lydia,” Derek says. “I want to ask _you_ a few questions.” 

Stiles looks Derek up and down before resting on his face again. What could Derek possibly want to talk to Stiles about? Regardless, it’s going to have to wait for another time. 

“Sorry, but tonight isn’t good. I haven’t spent any quality time with my daughters since I’ve come back from bringing Lydia home. It’s their night tonight.” He explains. 

“Right,” Derek says. “Another day then, I’ll be in town for about a week so we have a little time. Have a good night then.” 

Derek heads toward his car, looking a bit grumpy. If that’s the way he’s going to act when Stiles tells him to get off his yard, then he can only imagine what Derek is like when he’s in the courtroom. But still, he’s going to be in town for a _week_? Stiles did not like the sound of that at all. He couldn’t worry about it now, though. He had a daughter that needed him more. 

Kira and Allison were home shortly after Stiles, putting their bags down in front of the door and heading into the kitchen. 

“There’s my two favorite people in the world!” Stiles says, grabbing both girls and giving them sloppy kisses on their cheeks. “How was your day at school?”

“Today a boy in my class accidentally glued his hand to his desk. It was awesome!” Allison says. 

If he were Allison, Stiles would think it was awesome too. However, he is an adult now and adults know that it is very dangerous to glue hands to desks. It doesn’t stop Stiles from agreeing with her, though. 

“And you, Kira?” 

“Fine I guess.” She says quietly.

Stiles watches her for a moment before bending down in front of Allison. 

“Baby, why don’t you go wash your hands and face and come help me with dinner?” He asks her. 

She nods excitedly and runs up the stairs. Kira is about to head up with her when Stiles puts his hand on her shoulder. 

“So I went to that parent meeting today. Is there anything you want to tell me, sweetie?”

“Not really, no.” She says, looking at her shoes. 

“Are you sure?”

“Why don’t you just tell me what she said about me?” She snaps. 

“Woah, hey. There’s no reason to be like that.” Stiles says. 

“Well I don’t like it when you do that, the whole fishing for answers thing. It’s annoying, just tell me what she said!” 

“…She said you’re angry all the time now.” 

“Well isn’t that a surprise,” Kira mumbled. “Sorry, I’ll work better on hiding my anger.” 

“I don’t want you to do that, Kira. I want you to tell me why you’re angry.”

“It’s none of your business.” She says, folding her arms. 

“Actually as your father, it kind of is.” 

“You’re not my father!” Kira yells. 

And that hurts. That hurts worse than the scratch marks on his shoulder right now. 

“I…I guess you’re right, I’m not.” Stiles admits. 

Kira’s eyes widen at the realization of what she said. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean that. Oh my God, I swear I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry!” She says. 

She puts her hands out in front of her to reach for Stiles and they begin to glow brightly. Before Stiles can say anything, the lights in the kitchen get brighter before the bulbs pop and shatter around them. Stiles instinctively throws himself on top of Kira to keep the glass from cutting her. When the glass stops falling, Kira pushes Stiles away and shoves her hands in fists underneath her arms. 

“Please don’t touch me,” She cries. “I don’t want to hurt you!” 

Stiles kneels in front of her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“You won’t hurt me, Kira.” 

“Yes I will! I don’t know what is wrong with me but I’m dangerous!” 

“You’re not dangerous, baby. You’re special and there is nothing wrong with that.” Stiles says. 

Even though he’s only just now beginning to understand those words, he knows they’re true. There is nothing wrong with Kira for being a kitsune. There’s nothing wrong with him for being a witch. There’s nothing wrong with his family for being full of magic. What’s wrong is that the world has plastered a red letter across all of them for not understanding. He won’t live in fear of people’s words any longer, and in order for him to help Kira, he needs to live with his newfound courage. 

Does this mean Stiles is going to walk around town with his bag floating next to him? No, not in the slightest, but he isn’t going to let the town think he’s brewing up death spells left and right either. 

“Just because I’m a freak doesn’t make me any less dangerous, Dad.” Kira says. 

“I never said you were a freak, I said you were special. Like me, like your aunt.” 

“You’re telling me you and Aunty Lyds can make lights and machines flicker too?”

Stiles chuckles at his daughter’s excitement. 

“No, not quite like that, but we aren’t that much different.”

Stiles picks up the bowl of mountain ash he had out for the occasion and takes a handful. He throws it into the air and watches it fall into a perfect circle around him and Kira. She tries to touch the ash but gets her hand pushed back forcefully. 

“I can’t touch it?” She asks her father. 

“Unfortunately no, sweetie. Supernatural things can’t go past a mountain ash barrier, only druids and normal people can touch it.” Stiles explains. 

“So…You really are a witch?” 

Stiles nods, flicking his wrist and watching a break appear in the circle so Kira can get out. 

“And so is Aunty Lyds. Don’t let that scare you, though. We’re not like the witches you read about in scary stories. If I’m honest, I don’t like using my abilities. I don’t like bringing that kind of attention around you girls. Now enough about me, I need you to tell me when this began.”

Kira shrugs, holding her hands out in front of her. 

“It only comes out when I’m really angry. When that happens, I sit on my hands and hope no one notices.” She says.

“Does it hurt you when it happens?” He asks. 

“No, it tickles actually. I was so scared the first time it happened, I thought I was going to die. Dad, why does it happen? I don’t understand it.” 

Stiles thinks about how he can explain it without scaring Kira more. Unfortunately, there’s really no easy way to explain to someone that they’re a supernatural creature.  
“While I don’t know much about it, which I’m going to fix very soon, you’re what they call a kitsune. They’re fox spirits.” Stiles tries explaining. 

“Does that mean I’m gonna turn into a fox?” Kira asks, raising her eyebrow.

“No, No, baby. From what Uncle Alan and I found out, you don’t shift into anything. At least we don’t think so,” He refrains from using the worse hope. “However, with the way your powers are manifesting, I’m assuming you’re a thunder kitsune. There are many different types, but you seems to have control over electricity.” 

“So I’m just a freak who shoots electricity out of her hands?” 

“First off, that’s actually really cool. Second, I don’t know if you can actually do that so let’s not find out anytime soon, huh? Third, for the last time you are not a freak.” Stiles says. 

Things are quiet between the two of them for a short moment before Stiles notice that Kira is crying. 

“I really am sorry that I said that earlier,” She says. “I really didn’t mean it. I’ve just been so sad and so confused and so angry. I’ve been acting like a brat and saying things I don’t mean. I love you and I’m really happy you’re my Dad.” 

Stiles folds his hands over Kira’s, bringing them to his lips and kissing them. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t come to me for help. I’m not upset with you for saying I wasn’t your dad. If that’s how you truly feel, I can’t change that-“

“But I didn’t mean it!” Kira blurts out. 

Stiles shushes her. 

“Regardless of if you meant it or not, I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Whether I’m a witch or druid, a friend, or a father, I’m going to be here for you. I don’t know much about kitsunes but I’ll find out whatever I can to help you. I love you, Kira, and nothing is going to change that.” He says. 

He barely has the words out before he has a handful of Kira, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a huge hug that he returns gratefully. He peers over his shoulder to see Allison standing in the doorway and he reaches for her. 

“Come here, shorty. Get in on this love fest before it’s over!” He says. 

Allison runs to them and tackles them to the ground. Stiles is laughing, maneuvering them all so they don’t land on any of the glass.

When Lydia gets home, she finds the three of them sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by candles eating dinner. 

“What happened to the lights?” She asks. 

“Kira blew them up,” Stiles answers. “I was too lazy to change them out yet.”

“She…blew up the lights?”

“Yep. She’s a thunder kitsune.” Stiles says nonchalantly. 

Kira shrugs from her seat. 

“Oh she is? Mazel tov.” Lydia says, grabbing a plate and some food before sitting down with them. 

Stiles isn’t sure what they’re going to do about Kira’s budding powers, the New York detective sniffing around the island, or the decaying body of a psychopath buried in the back yard, but he knows they’ll figure it all out together. 

 

***********

 

Derek opens the door to his hotel room to find his partner lounging out on his bed. 

“I was wondering when you were coming back,” Isaac says. “Did you get anything else out of the Stilinskis?” 

“No, I went to their house and was sent away.” Derek grumbles. 

“Sent away? I’m sorry, but last I checked that isn’t something they can do, Derek. You’re an officer of the law, you’re trying to locate a serial killer.” 

“It wasn’t that simple, Isaac. Stiles hasn’t seen his daughters very much in a couple of days.”

“When did Stilinski turn into just Stiles?” Isaac raises an eyebrow. 

“Don’t give me that look or you’ll sleep in the bathtub tonight.” Derek glares. 

“I have my own bed, you can’t make me do anything.” 

Derek’s eyes flash blue as he raises an eyebrow of his own. 

“You want to bet money on that?” He asks. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Put the claws away, we had a hard enough time explaining the claw marks to the last hotel. I’m not dealing with it again.” Isaac says, flashing his yellow eyes and getting ready in case Derek really does decide to make him sleep in the tub. 

Derek’s eyes fade back to his normal hazel color as he slumps down onto his bed. 

“I can’t explain it,” He says. “I feel like I know this guy, but I’ve never met him before.”

“Are you sure you just don’t want to sleep with him?” Isaac asks. 

“I really don’t know why I brought you with me.” 

“Because the chief wasn’t going to let you go alone and I’m technically your partner? Any of this ringing a bell?” 

“Just to go sleep Isaac, we’ll try and get more information tomorrow.” Derek says, standing back up and undressing for bed. 

“We can try his store? I found out today that Stiles only a home remedy store in town, his friends work there, too. Maybe we’ll get something there?” 

Derek nods, sitting down in his sweats and tank top and pulling out Stiles letter from his jacket pocket. He rereads it for the hundredth time before turning off the light and attempting sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is complete crap. Oh well, guess I'll just post it and get it over with. 
> 
> Hello world! Hope you had a wonderful week! I've been fighting back and forth with this chapter for the last three days. Hopefully its received better than how I feel about it lol. 
> 
> Currently working on the next chapter to my other story! It's actually quite difficult running the same characters in two different universes...When I thought I was challenging myself, I didn't think it was gonna be this...confusing sometimes. 
> 
> Anyhoodle, let me shut up and get back to writing. Have a good day everyone!
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome.
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!
> 
> -John


	6. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You know, I’m under the impression that you don’t want me around.”_
> 
> _“Well at least _that_ assumption is working out for you,” Stiles says._

_You can feel it, can’t you? The change in the atmosphere…the difference in the wind._

_Something is coming, Lydia. Something is coming and it is all your fault._

_You can’t play with fire and not expect to get burned, sweetheart._

_You thought you could run away from me…_

_You thought you saw the last of me…_

_But you’re mine, Lydia. I **own** you. _

_Something is coming, my love._

_And that something is me._

_I’m coming for you…and I always get what I want._

_Oooohhh Lydiaaaa…._

 

Lydia shoots upright in her bed. She looks around her room frantically, inspecting every dark corner she sees. The only thing she can hear is her heavy breathing and her racing heart. As she reaches a shaky hand to her face she notices for the first time that she was crying. There’s a sensation in her throat, rising up without notice. 

_Oh no,_ she thinks. _Not right now, please…_

She can’t keep it down, knowing full well what it means. Lydia reaches behind herself and grabs her pillow in hopes to muffle the worst of it. 

She screams. 

The scene flashes across her eyes, claws and teeth ripping into flesh. The pleas from the victim as they’re mercilessly ripped apart are in her ears. She screams as though she’s witnessing it firsthand. Lydia has given up trying to reach out to the person, knowing it’s useless. It’s probably already happened and there is nothing she could have done. 

The visions started when she was young, the screaming is only recent. There isn’t much information about banshees, all she could find was that they are predictors of death. Yet whenever Lydia has a vision, it’s moments after the death has occurred. She’s good at finding the dead bodies, but never has she been able to prevent them from happening. 

It takes her a moment to realize someone is calling out to her, trying to pull the pillow from her face. Reluctantly, she lets it fall in her lap as she tries to take in huge gulps of air. She doesn’t know when or if she will ever get used to how exhausting the screaming is. 

Stiles has Lydia’s face in his hands the moment the pillow it out of the way. 

“Lydia talk to me, what’s going on?” He asks. 

“He’s dead, I couldn’t help him…” Lydia whisper. 

“Who’s dead? Did you have a vision?” 

Lydia yanks her face out of Stiles’ hands and glares at him. 

“What do you think, smart ass?” She hisses, throwing her legs over the bed and standing up. 

“It was a werewolf,” She continues. “A werewolf attacked someone and...”

Lydia couldn’t finish the sentence. 

“You’re sure he’s dead?” Stiles asks.

“If I saw it happen, what do you think?” 

“I don’t know, you haven’t had a vision in quite some time, maybe something changed?”

“Nothing’s changed Stiles, I’m sure if I went out right now we’d find his body. No that wasn’t a suggestion.” Lydia says. 

“Wait, you mean it might be close?” Stiles asks.

“Whenever these visions happen, it’s pretty close to wherever I am. I’m guessing someone on the island.” 

“That would mean there’s a werewolf here in Beacon Hills. Lydia, what if it’s a pack?”

“For the last time Peter didn’t have a pack!” Lydia says, growing more annoyed with her brother’s suspicions. 

“You also said you didn’t know for sure, didn’t you?” Stiles asks. 

Lydia glares. 

“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but if my girls are in danger I need to know.” 

“If they were in danger, whatever it was would have to get through me first.” Lydia assured. “Nothing is going to happen to them, Stiles. I promise.” 

Silence falls between the two siblings as they weighed their options. 

“We probably shouldn’t go out looking for a body, huh?” Stiles asks. 

“No, I don’t think so, especially with a detective who is monitoring us.” Lydia answers.

Right, Stiles forgot about Derek sniffing around the island. He drags a hand down his face, realizing just how tired he still is. 

“Well since we’re not going to do anything about it tonight, I’m going to bed back to bed. Are you going to be okay or did you want to sleep with me tonight?” He asks. 

Lydia doesn’t answer, staring out her window in contemplation. Stiles stands and grabs her hand. 

“I’ll decide for you. Come on Lyds, you need some sleep.” 

She follows without any argument. Sleeping near Stiles had always calmed her down as a kid, nothing much has changed in her adult years. She drifts off to sleep without any trouble the moment her head hits the pillow. 

_I’m coming for you…and I always get what I want…_

Well…almost no trouble.

 

***********

 

“Damnit!” Stiles hisses, slamming another book shut. 

Since the library opened, he has had his nose in hundreds of books trying to find out as much as he can about kitsunes. So far, he has found nothing but useless fairytales in Japanese folklore. He rubs at his eyes and silently wonders if too much of that would make him go blind. He decides not to test out his theory just yet. When his hands fall back on the table, Derek Hale is standing in front of him. Derek and all his leather-jacketness.

“Jesus Christ!” He all but shouts, shoving himself away from the table and flailing as his chair slips from under him and he falls to the floor. 

The librarian comes around the corner glaring. 

“Mr. Stilinski for the last time, if you cannot follow the rules of the library, you cannot use it!” She hisses, turning back around and leaving to continue her duties. 

Derek walks around the table and extends a hand to help Stiles up. Reluctantly, Stiles takes it and is pulled up from the floor. 

“Do you make it your mission in life to scare the shit out of the people you’re interrogating?” He asks. 

Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“I wasn’t aware I was interrogating you.” He says. 

“Well why else would you be here? Unless you’re openly admitting to following me around the town and watching my every move. Which, by the way, unless you have a reasonable suspicion and proof of that suspicion, I don’t appreciate that.” Stiles says. 

“So, using the library for my own reasons isn’t an option?” Derek asks.

“You’re a detective, what could you possibly need this run down library for?” 

“I’m always looking for new reading material.” 

“Detective Hale, this library has not been updated with new reading material in almost a hundred years.” Stiles says. 

“Well I doubt I’ve read everything that’s in here, I don’t even know what’s in here actually…” Derek says, eyes wandering around the open floor as if he can see titles of books from where he’s standing. 

Stiles is growing tired of his evasiveness. He’s not a detective by any means, but he can catch a lie from a mile away. Derek’s eyes fall on the piles of books on the table Stiles is occupying, reading some of the titles. 

“Are you interested in a lot of Folklore, Stiles?” He asks, picking up one of the books.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Hale. Am I being interrogated?” Stiles asks through gritted teeth. 

Derek puts the book down, not breaking eye contact. 

“Should you be, Stiles?” 

Stiles glares, reaching out to the table and picking up his keys and phone. 

“You know what? Whatever, follow me around till your heart’s content.” He says just loud enough to anger the librarian. 

“Mr. Stilinski-“ She starts. 

“Yes, I heard you the first three times.” He shouts at her, stomping out of the library. 

He makes it to the sidewalk before he all but feels Derek behind him. 

“Stiles wait, do you know anything about the body found in the woods last night?” He asks. 

That makes Stiles freeze. So Lydia’s suspicions were right. Someone died on the island. 

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says. 

Derek sighs, a look of relief flashing across his face. 

“A mangled body was found just inside the forest. It looked almost like a wolf attack.” 

“We don’t have wolves in Beacon Hills…” Stiles says, more to himself than to Derek. 

“I know you don’t,” Derek answers anyway. “I’m more concerned about the symbol found on the victims chest.” 

“Symbol? I’m sorry?”

“Ever heard of something called the triskele?” Derek asks. 

“Very briefly, sure. I don’t know very much about it, though.” 

“Well it could mean many things, but the most common is past, present, and future. A triskele was carved into the victim’s chest…The same symbol that Peter carves into his victims after he kills them.” 

Stiles’ heart is slamming against his ribcage. There is no way in any form of this world that Peter could have killed someone last night. He was buried in the back of Stiles’ house for crying out loud. 

“The only thing different about this murder, and makes me almost sure it _wasn’t_ Peter who killed this man, is that the body is different.” Derek says. 

“I’m sorry but what is that supposed to mean?” Stiles asks. 

“Peter never mangled his victims. I mean, this body is torn apart and scattered all around an area of the forest. Peter only bit his victims and then strangled them to death. I think there’s a copy cat here in Beacon Hills. Either that or Peter did commit this murder and he’s getting more aggressive.”

“Peter couldn’t have killed them.” Stiles says before he can stop himself. 

Derek gives him a confused look that quickly turns into his classic glare. 

“And how would you know that, Stiles?” He asks. 

Crap. Stiles really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut.

“Stiles, do you know something? I need to be informed if you have any information.” Derek says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a notepad. 

For some reason this annoys Stiles to no end. Is Derek seriously going to fish for information right this second when Stiles is more concerned about the safety of his girls? Were detectives really this ruthless about cracking their cases? The answer, of course, is yes. Stiles should know better than to think Derek cares about anything other than finding his uncle and bringing him into custody. He isn’t there for anything else and Stiles needs to remember that. But there is another question poking his mind. 

…Since when did Stiles _care_ that Derek isn’t there for him? That isn’t supposed to be a problem. Derek is _supposed_ to ask questions and leave. Maybe it’s because Derek isn’t leaving.

He shakes his head to clear his mind, putting on a glare to match Derek’s. 

“I don’t know where you psychotic uncle is.” He snipped. 

“But you know he didn’t kill last night?” Derek asked suspiciously. 

“Detective Hale, if Peter really was the killer, don’t you think my sister would be dead instead of some random citizen?” 

That definitely makes Derek shut up. Stiles gives himself an imaginary pat on the back for one-upping the stupid detective. 

“Regardless, I sure hope you find both your uncle and whoever killed someone last night, and I hope you find them soon. The last thing this town needs is another reason to hate me.” Stiles turns and walks away before Derek can say anything else. 

Unfortunately, Stiles didn’t feel any pride in the fact that he got the last word. He has more pressing issues, like finding out if Peter really is back from the dead. Again. That and his overbearing want to tell Derek the full truth, but by this point, Stiles would surely be locked away for several reasons. Killing someone twice, lying about the truth, punching a detective… The last one hasn’t happened yet but Stiles can see it in the near future. He’s sure no one will argue his affinity for precognition anymore. 

What the hell is he going to do? When did this become his life? His daughter is a Japanese fox spirit, his sister is a victim of some psychotic serial killing werewolf who they killed twice (He really feels like he can’t stress that enough), the whole town probably things he’s the reason everything is going crazy lately. Stiles can’t wait to see what they say about the killing that happened the night before. All he needs to find out now is that his guardians are secretly transforming into dogs or cats and wreaking havoc around the town on purpose. That or Allison is actually from a family of hunters or something stupid. 

He really didn’t have anything else to do today, he just wanted to get away from Derek as fast as possible. Deciding the town isn’t going to destroy itself in a day, he goes home to nap before going to the store to make sure Scott and Erica aren’t setting it on fire. Lydia is off doing lord knows what and Stiles purposely chooses not to ask. Allison and Kira are safe at school for the time being. Maybe a nap will do his nerves some good. 

 

***********

 

Or not. 

When he walks into the store, he almost runs right into Derek who’s looking at the shampoos. This time, the detective isn’t alone. Stiles only knows because he’s never seen the other man with curly hair before, and they’re both wearing leather jackets. 

“Oh for the love of God, what the hell are you doing here?” He asks. 

“Is that really how you greet all your customers?” Derek glares. 

“Don’t give me that customer crap, what do you want?”

“What does it look like? I’m here for shampoo, I hear you make your stuff from scratch and I have a very sensitive scalp.” Derek says with a straight face. 

Stiles isn’t buying it for a second. 

“Right, and your buddy’s here for what? A rectal bleaching paste?” Stiles asks. 

Scott drops the case of bottles he was stocking and promptly walks into the back room mumbling something about needing a bathroom. 

Curly haired guy doesn’t even have the decency to look offended. 

If it was at all possible, Derek glares harder at Stiles. It’s not as menacing when he’s beet red in the face. 

“You know, I’m under the impression that you don’t want me around.” 

“Well at least _that_ assumption is working out for you,” Stiles says, turning to Erica. “Erica, when he and his buddy walked in, did they flash their badges?”

“Yep.” She says from behind the register, popping the ‘P’. 

“Thought so,” Stiles says, pointing at Derek. “You and your partner, back room, _now_.” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he marches past both Derek and the curly haired guy, throwing his thumb over his shoulder when he sees Scott. 

“Out dude, I have some business to take care of.” Is all the explanation Scott gets before Stiles forcibly shoves him out onto the sale floor and closes the door behind him. 

“Alright who’s he?” Stiles points at the guy. 

“This is my partner, Isaac Lahey. He’s helping me on the Hale case, though I really don’t have to give that information to you.” Derek says, almost in a growl. 

“Bullshit _detective_ , it may be a small island, but I know my rights. You have no business snooping around my store. This town already has enough reason to hate me, I don’t need you getting them thinking I’m a criminal too. I just opened this damn place and business is doing quite well for being a town recluse, now if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it that way.” Stiles says, crossing his arms. 

“If you don’t want me around your store, why don’t you give me the full story of what happened between your sister and my uncle?” 

“We gave you everything we know about your psychotic uncle, what more do you want?”

“Um…Derek, I’m going to wait outside for you.” Isaac says, not waiting for an answer and leaving the back room. 

Derek sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking at Stiles again. 

“Look Stiles, I can’t explain it but I know you’re lying to me. What you don’t understand is how lucky your sister is to have escaped. Peter starts by driving aimlessly around the USA which makes it hard for us to track him. He bites every one of his victims and strangles them to death. Lydia said Peter tried to bite her but she escaped. Something isn’t adding up, Peter doesn’t just forget about a target. When he gets his mind set on someone, they’re either dead or on their way. He’s looking for someone, someone with pure blood. At least that’s what he claims. I’m trying to keep you, your sister, and your girls safe.” Derek explains. “So please, help me help you.” 

Stiles looks into Derek’s eyes, open and pleading. Every other time he’s seen the man, Derek has always been guarded and mean. Now, he’s almost vulnerable. Stiles can’t explain what he feels, but he _wants_ to help him, even if it means getting himself thrown in jail. 

He sighs, clearly losing his mind for even agreeing to this. 

“I must be out of my fucking mind,” He says under his breath. “Tomorrow at ten o’clock, come to the house and have breakfast. Leave your partner at home, one unwanted person in my home is enough. The girls will be home, but Lydia and I will cooperate.” 

Stiles watches as Derek’s shoulder sag a little, whether from relief or something else. 

“I’ll be there,” He says. “Thank you, Stiles. Whatever you can tell me will help us.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that. Just…buy whatever it is you’re supposedly here for and get out of my store.” 

Derek nods, opening the door and heading back into the main area, leaving Stiles in the back room. 

What the hell is he thinking telling Derek to come over? What is wrong with him? Clearly he has a death wish if he really thinks this is going to go over well. He supposes he’ll kiss his daughters goodbye tonight and just get it over with. 

 

***********

 

It’s his turn to close his store for the night, Scott and Erica being long gone. It’s almost ten in the evening when he’s finally done and heading home. Beacon Hills is always so eerily quiet at night so Stiles is used to it on his night walks home. What he isn’t used to is the snapping of twigs and what is unmistakably the sound of growling. He stops dead in his tracks, looking around carefully to see if he can locate the source of the growling. He really hopes it isn’t what he thinks it is.

Everything around Stiles falls silent again, but this time it’s a bone chilling quiet. Like the one someone encounters before something extremely bad is about to happen. He slowly reaches one hand into his pants pocket for the small bag of mountain ash he keeps with him at all times. The other hand goes for the small blade in his jacket pocket that he dipped in wolfsbane. He doesn’t normally walk around armed like this, just lately since he killed an alpha. No big deal. 

When he looks toward the forest, he sees it for the first time. A pair of glowing yellow eyes staring back him. The growling starts again and Stiles knows his suspicions are right. 

He’s the omega’s next target. 

Fear over anything else has him running as fast as he can toward the nearby buildings in hopes that someone is around. Maybe the omega won’t attack if there is an audience? He doesn’t make it far before the werewolf slams into his back and makes him stumble forward. Before he hits the ground, the werewolf grabs the back of his shirt and tosses him into a building wall, knocking the air of him. 

Before Stiles can even try to set a barrier around him the werewolf slams against him again, pinning him to the wall. With a clawed hand on Stiles’ head, the werewolf bends down to his ear. 

“You’re one of the sparks,” he says. “One of the sparks I’ve been looking for.” 

Stiles grunts, frustrated that he can’t pull his hand free to try and cut the werewolf with the wolfsbane blade. 

“I thought I had you last night, but the other one’s spark was not strong enough.” 

“So you had to kill him?” Stiles spat. 

“The secret must not be known, surely you understand.” 

“I understand you’re completely out of your fucking mind. What the hell do you want?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” The werewolf asks. “I have no alpha, I have no pack. With you, though, I won’t need either. You can make me strong enough.” 

“And exactly how am I supposed to do that? I don’t practice any magic, I’m a fucking soap maker for crying out loud.” Stiles grits out as the werewolf presses harder on his head. 

“You just need to bind yourself to me. I won’t need you after that’s done, we’d share your strength. I’d be invincible, alphas would fear me.” 

“Only one problem, buddy. I won’t do it.” Stiles says. 

The werewolf growls in his ear, claws digging into Stiles’ scalp and back. 

“You _will_ do it or I’ll rip you apart like I did the emissary last night.” He says. 

Stiles is seriously weighing his options while pinned to this building wall. Seriously, is no one around to witness the ridiculousness of his life? That’s when the werewolf is violently pulled off of Stiles and thrown away from him. 

Stiles turns around to see who helped him but everything is moving in a blur. The werewolf launches himself at his attacker who’s moving just as fast. All Stiles can make out are the yellow of the Omega’s eyes…and the blue of whatever is attacking him. He tries to remember everything he knows about the colors of eyes and supernatural creatures. 

“Come on, Stiles, think.” He says to himself. 

_Kitsunes glow like an ember. Dark Druids fill like a fill like a foggy haze. Werejaguars entice like a stone of Jade. Werewolves instill fear with an array of colors: Red for Alpha, Yellow for Beta, Blue for a Beta who lost its way…_

Lost its way…Blue eyes meant the killer of an innocent. Two werewolves are fighting each other and Stiles is in the middle of it. 

When he comes back to reality, he sees the omega has broken away and is coming right toward him. Stiles turns away and expects the worst, but nothing comes. He looks back and sees the omega caught in a headlock by the other werewolf. Before he can say anything, the blue eyed beta jerks his arm and snaps the omega’s neck. 

The latter falls to the floor in a lifeless heap. When the beta looks at Stiles the air is knocked out for a whole different reason because he knows the person standing in front of him. He knows the person who just killed another person and Stiles doesn’t know what to believe anymore. 

Because Derek Hale is standing in front of him with steel blue eyes and pointy ears and a hairy face and he just snapped someone’s neck from twitching. 

“Stiles,” Derek says and Stiles can see the sharp fangs in his mouth. 

“Stay away from me,” He says. “Stay the hell away from me.” 

“Wait, just listen.” 

“Is this some kind of joke? You- You’re one of them and you failed to mention that?” 

“The secret must not be known.” Derek says, the same thing the omega said before he died. 

“You’re after me aren’t you?” Stiles determines. 

“No, that isn’t why I’m here-“

“You’re after the same thing this omega was after. The same thing Peter wanted before-“ Stiles stops. 

“Before what, Stiles?” Derek asks. 

Stiles closes his mouth, backing up until his back hits the stupid fucking wall again. 

“Don’t come near me or I’ll kill you.” He threatens. 

“I believe you,” Derek says. “But I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Stiles laughs. Doubles over and lets it all out. 

“You’re standing here in front of me with glowing eyes, pointy teeth and ears, and you howl at the moon once a month. Yet you’re going to tell me you won’t hurt me? Excuse me if I don’t believe a fucking word you say. I mean Jesus, are you even a detective? Is that badge even real? What about your so called partner? Is he a werewolf too? You’re working for your uncle, aren’t you?” Stiles shoots off questions like they’re going out of style. 

“If you take a minute to breathe, I can give you every answer you’re looking for.” Derek says, taking a step closer. 

Stiles pulls out the small blade and points it at Derek. 

“I’m not going to say it again, stay the fuck away from me. I don’t know what the hell is going on and I don’t care, just leave me alone.” 

“Stiles, please. I’m not here to kill you, I’m just trying to help you.” Derek says. 

He’s still moving closer, ignoring Stiles’ warnings. Stiles can feel the magic begin to tingle on his finger tips. He doesn’t know what he’s doing or how he knows how to do it, but Derek freezes just a foot in front of him. 

“I told you to stay away and you didn’t listen. Back up, Hale. I mean it, back _up_!” Stiles shouts, pushing his hand out and dropping his jaw when Derek goes flying backwards. 

He takes advantage of the situation and tries running past Derek who reaches out and grabs Stiles’ leg. 

“Stiles, wait!” He says. 

Stiles drives the blade into Derek’s arm, making the latter let go and shout in pain. He shoots off toward his house. The ward that Lydia put up will protect them. 

But then again…the ward should have kept Derek out in the first place and it didn’t…

Still, Stiles knew Derek would have fun trying to get the wolfsbane out of his system before it killed him. That would occupy him while Stiles figured out a way to protect him and his family from the werewolves. 

He needs to figure out why everyone was after him and Lydia, why werewolves are popping up like daisies, and why it all has to happen now. He really wishes uncle Alan and aunt Marin would come back already, he really needs their help. 

When he reaches his house, he slams the door shut and locks it, checking all the windows before completing a premade circle of mountain ash inside the house. It bought him time before the morning to find out why his life was so ridiculous. 

While he’s bringing Lydia up to speed they hear a howl not too far from the house that makes them both stop breathing for a moment. 

“They can’t get into the house, I protected it.” Stiles says. 

“That didn’t stop Derek the last time.” Lydia says. 

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault. You’re the one who set that all up.” 

“I know, and no supernatural creature should have been able to pass through the front door unless they were involved with the family somehow, which means we have to figure out one of the biggest questions.”

“Which is?” Stiles asks. 

“…What does Derek Hale have to do with our family?” Lydia asks in answer. 

Another howl pierces the quiet night. 

Stiles wants a new life, maybe on a new island. 

They’re moving to Hawaii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God I feel like I haven't updated this in forever and I am so sorry! 
> 
> Just a reminder, updates have changed to every other week, alternating between my two stories! It's just a bunch of unneeded confusion trying to update them both in the same week. Sorry y'all! 
> 
> I feel like this chapter fell through just a little bit...but regardless, I'm happy with it! 
> 
> In case it wasn't as obvious as I was hoping...the beginning is Peter speaking to Lydia in her dreams. Spoiler? Sorry. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry for the corny ass excerpt about eye colors and supernatural creatures. I thought it was clever but oh well. 
> 
> NOW! Things are seriously heating up now and I can't wait for the next chapter. So much is to come and it's gonna be amazing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Be sure to look for this week's update of [Hold Me Tight (Within Your Clutch)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1897854/chapters/4091328)
> 
> All mistakes are mine.
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome! 
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!


	7. Old Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Why would I waste my time trying to catch your eye when I’ve already got a particularly handsome shelf stocker waiting for me at your store?”_
> 
> _And that sends a serious anger through Stiles that boils hot within his stomach._
> 
> _“Oh do you? Well how about I just give you your housewarming gift now? How about I get a big ass piece of rowan tree, wrap it in some fucking wolfsbane, add a little mistletoe on top and shove it up your smug little a-“_
> 
> _“Stiles,” Derek interrupts. “I’m still dying over here.”_

In the morning, there’s a soft knock at the door. Stiles fell asleep on the couch, guarding the downstairs in case someone tried to come in and kill them in the night. He has the urge to just let whoever it is keep knocking, wanting to ignore people all day. At least, that’s what he is planning on doing except the knocker won’t take a hint. 

He rolls himself off the couch and onto the floor with a heavy thud, groaning at the dull pain it causes. He lifts himself up and pads his way to the door. Before he reaches for the door knob, it’s like he _knows_ who’s on the other side. Stiles decides to just get it over with. 

When he opens the door, Derek Hale is leaning heavily against the doorframe, pale and looking half dead. 

“You have some serious balls showing up here. Didn’t you learn your lesson last night?” He asks. 

“Dying…” Derek pants out. 

“Come again?” 

“I’m…dying.” 

“Good, maybe you’ll learn your lesson.” Stiles crosses his arms, refusing to admit how stupid he sounds. 

“Why don’t you stop being an asshole and help him?” Isaac says from the bottom of the porch. 

Stiles leans his head around Derek to look at his partner. 

“Oh right, I forgot you exist. What are you doing here?” 

“I found Derek in the alley after he saved your dumb ass last night. How nice of you to leave him for dead.” 

“Isaac enough.” Derek says through clenched teeth. 

The pain was getting worse and the wolfsbane was slowly making its way to his heart. 

“Well if he wasn’t trying to kill me I wouldn’t have left him.” Stiles says. 

“Wasn’t trying to kill you…” Derek says. “I was trying to help you. You stabbed me no questions asked.” 

“Sorry, I tend to get a little anxious around shape-shifting wolf men with claws and fangs.” Stiles snarks. 

“He needs the antidote to the wolfsbane you used.” Isaac says. “Without it he’ll die pretty soon.” 

“I don’t have an antidote.” Stiles says honestly. 

“The plant is the antidote,” Derek mumbles. 

His eyes are drooping and Stiles can see he’s actually fighting to stay awake. 

“…Give me one good reason why I should be helping you? I don’t owe you anything and you dying isn’t really going to change my outlook on life in any way.” 

“I’m here to protect you.” Derek says. 

“Excuse me? Protect me? In case you missed it last night, I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.” 

“So I didn’t almost witness a feral omega almost force a bond with you?” 

“…Okay, after all that.” Stiles says. 

“Jesus, Stiles. I really don’t feel like dying on your doorstep.” Derek says. “If you help me, I’ll give you everything I know.” 

“Do you know why people are after me and my sister? Why your _uncle_ was after my sister?” Stiles asks. 

“Yes, I know it all. Well, to some extent.” 

“…You just became valuable, congratulations.” He says. 

He extends a hand to help Derek move off of the doorframe and pull him inside. Isaac tries to step onto the porch and is pushed back off.

“Hey, why can’t I get any closer?” He asks. 

Stiles smirks to himself, proud that Lydia was able to get the ward working. Though that didn’t explain how Derek was able to get past it. 

“Because stray mutts belong outside.” Stiles says. 

Isaac glares, his eyes flashing yellow before fading back to their regular blue. His face forms an almost smug expression. 

“Right, so that explains everything. You practically have Derek on a leash panting after you so it only makes sense that he can reach your door instead of me.” Isaac says. 

“Oh yeah? What’s wrong, pretty boy, you jealous you’re not getting my reluctant attention?” 

“Why would I waste my time trying to catch your eye when I’ve already got a particularly handsome shelf stocker waiting for me at your store?” 

And that sends a serious anger through Stiles that boils hot within his stomach. 

“Oh do you? Well how about I just give you your housewarming gift now? How about I get a big ass piece of rowan tree, wrap it in some fucking wolfsbane, add a little mistletoe on top and shove it up your smug little a-“

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts. “I’m still dying over here.” 

Stiles takes a moment to glare hard at Isaac once more before turning fully into the house. 

“Yeah, yeah, quit being such a baby and don’t you dare bleed out on these floors. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, bleeding black blood and shit, but I don’t want to find out if it stains.” He says.

It’s a process, but Stiles manages to get Derek into the greenhouse and leaning against the table. He takes a look at Derek’s injured arm, the cut is close to his shoulder, oozing slowly. 

“Oh that is disgusting,” He says. “Why does it smell like that? I already regret my decision. Why did you have to come here?” 

“Why did you have to stab me in the arm with a wolfsbane laced blade? Why did you even have that in the first place?” Derek asks. 

“When we heard about a possible omega on the island, I wasn’t taking any chances.” Stiles says, grabbing a pair of scissors from one of the drawers. “I’ve gotta cut your shirt up some more. I can’t get to the wound with it sticking to it.” 

Derek nods, shifting his weight so Stiles could reach the wound better. He cuts gently into the dark blue fabric, careful not to tug too much and cause any pain. Though he really should, he still has no reason to trust Derek. For all he knows, the guy could just try and kill him once he’s back to normal again. 

“So what exactly do I have to do?” Stiles asks as he starts to get the fabric out of the wound. 

“You have to-ow! Don’t pull so hard!-crush up some of the petals and burn them before shoving them into the wound.” Derek says, wincing as Stiles pulls the remaining part of the shirt out of the wound. 

He looks down and notices another dark spot on Derek’s shirt, torn near his abdomen.

“Hey, I only stabbed you once.” Stiles says. 

“What? Oh, that’s from the omega. He slashed me before I snapped his neck.” Derek said. 

“Well why didn’t you say something? That explains why you’re dying so quickly. Wolfsbane is poisonous, but multiple wounds won’t help with the staying alive process.” 

Stiles picks the scissors up again and goes to start cutting at Derek’s shirt again. 

“Really it’s fine, it’ll heal once the wolfsbane is out of my system.” Derek says, grabbing at Stiles’ hand. 

He wants to ignore it, the spark that shoots between them, but he can’t. He knows Derek can feel it too with the way his eyes widen. Stiles can’t explain it, but he swears he can hear Derek’s heartbeat. He pulled his hands out of Derek’s grasp, taking a step back.

“Will you shut up and just let me help you? I’ve already made the plunge, you’re already in my house, now just shut up and let me do what I do best.” He says angrily. 

He’s still waiting for Lydia and the girls to come downstairs and find a werewolf in the house. He wonders if Lydia would kill Derek on spot. 

“…Fine.” Derek says. 

When Stiles finishes cutting around Derek’s other wound, there isn’t much left of it. 

“You know, you might as well just take the shirt off, it’s not really wearable anymore.” He says. 

“Kind of hard when I can’t really lift my arms.” Derek says, gesturing to the still bleeding wound. 

“Oh quit being a baby, I stabbed one, not both.”

“Do you know what wolfsbane does to a werewolf if left in the bloodstream?” Derek asks. 

“I have an idea, but I don’t know how it works, no.” 

“It slowly shuts everything down, starting with movement. Pretty soon I’m going to be all but paralyzed. Once that happens, I have no real way to fighting to get to an antidote. When it reaches my heart, I will die.” Derek says. 

“That was so dramatic, I felt like it was scripted. Relax, you’re not going to die in my house. As much as I really want you to, I don’t feel like cleaning up the mess. Here, I’ll just cut the rest up and you can slide the shirt off while I grab some of the wolfsbane.” Stiles says, cutting up the middle of Derek’s shirt and leaving to search for the flower. 

When he comes back Derek is shirtless and really, if _that_ is what has been hiding under his dark shirts and ridiculous leather jacket, Stiles might have told him to take the shirt off a lot sooner. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and get back to the situation at hand. 

“Okay so I need to burn these?” He asks, holding out the petals. 

“And then shove them in my arm wound.” Derek confirms. 

Stiles really needs to find normal people to associate with. 

He lights the flowers on fire, watching as they emit a purple-blue flame and smoke. While they are still hot, he scoops them up and shoves them into the wound without warning. 

Derek roars. Outright roars as he throws himself on the ground and thrashes around. Stiles almost thinks the man is dying before he stops moving and just breathes. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

Derek opens his eyes and gives stiles an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ stare before lifting himself off the floor. 

“I was in the most agonizing pain I’ve ever been in, what do you think?” He asks. 

“Well shit, no need to thank me.” Stiles says. 

He notices the wound on Derek’s stomach hasn’t started healing yet but it’s bleeding a lot quicker. 

“Hey, you sure that’s going to heal? It looks like it’s going to kill you quicker than the wolfsbane.” He says. 

Derek looks down and seems to notice the wound is still there as well.

“It must be taking a little longer than usual because of how poisoned my blood was, I’m sure it’ll start healing pretty…pretty…” Derek cuts himself off as he leans forward hard, almost falling back toward the floor.

“Woah, woah, woah. Okay, so you’re still weak, got it. Don’t pass out or die on me, dude. I mean it when I say I’m not cleaning it up. Let me get some gauze really quick.” Stiles says. 

“I said it will be fine.” 

“Yeah and you also just about made out with the floor, I’m not buying the whole ‘I’m fine’ spiel.” 

Stiles cuts up some gauze and patches Derek’s wound, noticing just how warm he is. He also notices just how smooth Derek’s skin is and has to resist the urge to trails his fingers along the rest of it. Now is not the time to pop a boner and make the whole situation more awkward than it really is. He blames his sexual frustration on the fact that he’s only had his hand since Danny’s death. 

“Are you running a fever or something?” He asks. 

“Werewolves are naturally hotter than humans, it’s just…a thing.” Derek says by way of explaining. 

“Right well…I’ll be right back, I’m going to try and find you a shirt.” 

Stiles leaves Derek in the green house, but drops some mountain ash in the entrance on his way out. It forms a perfect line, keeping Derek inside. 

“What the hell, Stiles?” 

“Sorry, precaution. Now that I know what you are, I don’t need you sneaking around my house while I’m trying to be nice.” Stiles says with a shrug. 

He heads up the stairs, past his room and into the neighboring one that holds all of the boxes he hasn’t unpacked. He searches for a couple of minutes before finding a box that’s not labeled. There are several boxes unlabeled except with numbers. Stiles did it for a reason, knowing he couldn’t bring himself to write the actual name they belonged to at the time. He’s sure if he went back now he could, but maybe another day. 

As he comes back down the stairs he hears Kira shouting and runs to see what is wrong. 

“You’re so lucky I can’t come in there or I’d fry your brains out!” Kira yells. 

“Yeah! Fry your brains out!” Allison helps. 

“Girls, what are you doing?” Stiles asks. 

“Daddy get back, there’s a werewolf in the house!” Kira says. “I was going to take care of him but there’s mountain ash on the floor.” 

Stiles looks from his girls to Derek, who’s currently holding a potted plant to his chest to try and conceal its bareness. Stiles bites back a laugh.

“My heroes,” Stiles mumbles. “Girls this wolf is fine. I’m helping him get better and he’ll be on his way soon. Why don’t you go find Aunty Lyds and get her to start breakfast?” 

“Are you sure, Daddy? I can pass the mountain ash, I can beat him up!” Allison says. 

“As much as I would _love_ to see the big bad wolf get beaten up by my little precious, I’m totally positive I have this under control. Now go.” Stiles says, shooing his girls away. 

When Stiles breaks the mountain ash line, Derek puts the plant back on the table. 

“Really? A potted plant?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“I was shirtless and they were children, it was inappropriate.” Derek says, ears turning pink. 

“I tend to walk around without a shirt if I can help it. Really, it’s nothing they haven’t seen.”

“Still, it’s not proper if they don’t know me.” 

“Alright, I’ll give that one to you, Mr. Decency. Thank you for trying to save a little dignity in my girls,” Stiles says. “Anyway here, I knew I wasn’t going to have anything that would fit you so I had to go dig through Danny’s old stuff. You two were about the same size. You get black because I didn’t feel like finding pink to piss you off.” 

He hands Derek the shirt who takes it and looks at it.

“Who’s Danny?” He asks. 

Stiles stares at the shirt and grows quiet. He evades the question for a moment. 

“Did you really look me up before coming here, Derek?” 

“Of course I did, I don’t do my investigations mediocre.” He says. 

“…Then you know who Danny was.” 

Derek has the decency to look guilty, bowing his head slightly. 

“You’re right, I do. I’m sorry, it’s a little hard not to act like a detective sometimes.” 

“You should really work on that,” Stiles smirks. “Anyway, hurry up and get decent. We have a lot to talk about.” 

Derek nods, turning around and giving Stiles a good look at his back. The flexing muscles, the beautiful, and most likely smooth skin…and the tattoo between his shoulders. 

“Are you sure you’re not working for your uncle?” He asks. 

“Last I checked, yeah.” Derek snarks, turning around with Danny’s shirt stretched snuggly across his chest. 

Stiles wants to drool, he can’t help it. Damn that dry spell and Derek being unbelievably attractive. 

“Well I find it interesting that Peter is carving the same symbol you have a tattoo of into his victims.” He says. 

“It’s one of the reasons I want to catch him,” Derek says. “Aside of him killing people, of course.” 

“Why do you have it tattooed on your back, Derek?” 

“Because it’s a family symbol. I don’t know why Peter insists on using it as his signature, soiling our family name, but I’d like to find out.” He says. 

“…So you’re really not going to kill me?” Stiles can’t help but be suspicious. 

Derek looks right into Stiles’ eyes, making the latter just a little uncomfortable. 

“You have my word that you’re safe from me.” Derek says. 

For some reason, that’s all Stiles needs to hear to know Derek is telling the truth. He’s never trusted someone that easily, especially someone he just stabbed the night before. He really needed to figure out what the hell was going on. 

“Right then,” He says. “Shall we take this to the kitchen and see if Lydia is cooking yet? I’m sure you’re hungry.” 

Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“I thought you were just going to patch me up, slam me with questions, and kick me out the door?” 

“I’m feeling a tad bit generous, don’t push it, sourwolf.” Stiles says. “Is Isaac still outside? I can ask Lydia to let him inside.” 

Derek tilts his head as if listening to something. 

“No, he’s not there. I’m pretty sure he went to your store.” He says. 

That makes Stiles’ blood boil just a little.

“Really, I don’t need my friends getting sucked into this werewolf nonsense.” He tells Derek. 

Derek gets a look on his face like he wants to say something but doesn’t know if he should. 

“…What.” Stiles says. 

“Maybe now would be a bad time to tell you that they’re already sucked into it?” Derek answers. 

“What do you mean they’re already into it? What did you do?!” Stiles shouts. 

“Hey, I didn’t do a damn thing! How did you not know your friends are werewolves?” 

“Wait, what? They’re what? Scott’s not a werewolf. Erica is _not_ a werewolf! They would have told me!” 

“Tell me, do they tend to disappear for a weekend every month?” Derek asks. 

“Well yeah, but they have monthly camping…Oh. Oh fuck me.” Stiles says, visibly deflating. “Jesus Christ, my best friends are werewolves.” 

“Does that make them any different?” 

“What? No, of course it doesn’t! It’s just…I wish they would have told me.” 

“Do you remember what I said to you last night when you accused me of not telling you about me?” Derek asks. 

“’The secret must not be known.’” Stiles repeats. 

“Exactly,” Derek says. “It’s not that they don’t trust you with the information. It’s an unwritten rule that we stay in hiding, sometimes even from others like us. Your friends knew we were werewolves the moment we stepped in your shop yesterday. We can sense each other out pretty easily, but we choose to not react unless we have to. It makes life easier for us.”

“So what about the omega? He didn’t have a problem attacking people out in the open.” Stiles says. 

“Not all werewolves are keen on keeping themselves a secret,” Derek says. “The omega and my uncle feel we shouldn’t bow down to the human society. Werewolves like them feel we’re the superior species, that humans should bow to us. While we struggle to keep secrecy, we’re fighting a war between our own people. There are packs waiting to attack whole cities and take them over. Meanwhile other packs are waiting for the first strike so they can help protect. At the end of the day, though, humans will assume we’re all monsters.” 

That’s what hits Stiles pretty hard with guilt. He’s ashamed to admit he is one of those humans who think all werewolves are monsters, but up until now he hasn’t really had any reason to think otherwise. 

“I don’t have to guess to know your uncle is on the bad guy side.” Stiles says. 

Derek snorts.

“He’s practically leading them, well he was until he disappeared.” 

“That still doesn’t explain why he’s killing randomly and never in the same place. If he was trying to prove a point in being superior, wouldn’t he just kill a whole town? What does my sister have to do with it?” 

“Do you want the on-book or off-book explanation?” Derek asks. 

“…I’m going to assume the on-book one is that he’s a serial killer with no real particular kill patter except how he initially commits the killing?” Stiles asks. 

Derek nods. 

“Alright, so what’s the off-book one?” 

“…I’m going to need some breakfast after all.” 

Stiles smirks, waving Derek to follow him into the kitchen…where he finds Kira and Allison making a huge mess. 

“What are you girls doing?” He asks. 

“Weeeeeell…” Allison starts.

Oh, this is going to be good. 

“Aunty Lyds isn’t feeling very well and she said to tell you she’d be down later after a little more sleep. We thought we’d try cooking breakfast for you!” Allison finishes. 

“Right, and what were you planning on making with pancake mix and a pot?” Stiles asks. 

“I _told_ you he didn’t use a pot!” Kira hisses. “We were trying to make pancakes, Daddy.” 

“Oh, now that is my calling,” Derek says. “Step aside ladies, I’m going to show you how to make some amazing pancakes.” 

“You know how to cook pancakes?” Stiles asks. 

“Hey, I know how to do a lot of things.” 

Stiles shrugs, handing Derek a frying pan before shooing the girls away to fetch a broom and set up the table. 

“So do you at least know why your daughter can’t pass a mountain ash circle?” Derek asks. 

“Yes, smart ass, I do.” 

“I would hope so, I don’t want you thinking that’s normal for girls her age.” 

“You know, if your arm wasn’t in the process of healing, I would totally punch you right now.” Stiles says. 

“I’m surprised that’s stopping you,” Derek says. “So a kitsune, huh? You sure know how to find them.” 

“How do you know she’s a kitsune?” 

“Younger ones don’t know how to control their aura as well as the adult ones. It’ll dull with age, don’t worry, but for now it’s clear as day.” 

“She gives…an aura?” 

“As clear as day,” Derek repeats. “But like I said, don’t worry. She’ll be fine.” 

“Right…I’m going to go make sure they aren’t using the plates as Frisbees again, I can trust you won’t try poisoning our food?” Stiles asks. 

“That depends, are strawberries poison?” 

“You’re making strawberry pancakes?” 

“That was the plan, unless you’d rather I don’t?” Derek asks. 

“Why are you still talking? Get to work, wolf-boy.” Stiles says as he heads into the dining room. 

When the hell did his morning take a turn for the weird? One minute he’s sucking wolfsbane out of a wound, the next moment he’s drooling over a hot guy cooking breakfast. He keeps telling himself it’s only so he can get the answers he needs to keep his family safe. 

“Daddy I thought werewolves were our enemies?” Kira asks. “At least, that’s what you and Aunty Lyds told us last night?” 

“We did tell you that,” Stiles confirms. “But…Things have changed.” 

“Is Derek a good guy?” Allison asks. 

Stiles looks to the kitchen, watching Derek as he cooks. From where he is, he can hear Derek singing something quietly, but Stiles knows he’s listening. 

“Yes, baby. Derek is a good guy. He’s already promised he wouldn’t hurt us.” 

Stiles swears he sees Derek’s shoulders relax a little. 

“Good, because I really want pancakes and I wasn’t going to eat if he was a meanie head.” Allison says. 

Bless his children. Stiles kisses both of them on the head before going back into the kitchen to get the orange juice and milk.

“ _and_ you’re a Sinatra fan? You get weirder and weirder as the day goes on, Derek Hale.” Stiles says. 

Derek ducks his head, his ears turning pink again. 

“I didn’t realize I was being that loud.” He says. 

“It’s fine, you’ve got quite a voice, too. Sing on, Pavarotti.” Stiles laughs.

He will never admit it, but he likes hearing people sing, especially guys. You don’t hear guys sing very often unless they’re famous. Danny used to sing when he was drunk and out with their friends, it was some of Stiles’ favorite times.

He turns the coffee pot on before reaching up to grab a few glasses for the girls. 

“Juice and milk for the girls, unless you don’t drink coffee?” He asks.

“What right minded adult doesn’t drink coffee?” Derek asks. 

“My thoughts exactly.” Stiles agrees. 

 

Derek bring the pancakes, eggs, and bacon into the dining room and sets them down for everyone to grab. Stiles didn’t even know they had bacon. 

“Thank you for cooking even though you didn’t need to.” He says. 

“It’s the least I can do for not killing me.” Derek smirks.

“Hey don’t underestimate me. I may not have claws or anything, but I can always sick my werefox and raging ball of energy on you. They’re pretty scary when they want to be.” 

Derek’s smirk turns into a full blown smile when he faces Kira and Allison. Stiles feels his heart swell at the sight. In the time that Derek has been in Beacon Hills, never has Stiles seen him smile. In fact, Stiles has never seen a smile so bright and beautiful in his life.

“I think I could take ‘em.” Derek says. 

Allison, bless her soul, hisses at Derek. He chokes on his coffee from laughing. 

“See what I mean? Scary.” Stiles says. 

“Very,” Derek says. “I’m shivering over here.” 

“I may have left a window open, sorry.” Kira snarks. 

Stiles prides himself in his Children’s sense of humor. 

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, though,” Stiles says. “We still have a discussion to get to after breakfast.” 

Derek nods. Stiles doesn’t want to talk about the dangerous stuff with his girls around, at least not yet. 

“Derek, what’s your favorite animal?” Allison asks. 

“A wolf.” He says. 

“That is _so_ cheating!” Kira says. 

“It is _so_ not cheating,” He smirks. “Even if I wasn’t one myself, my favorite animal would be a wolf. I like how fast they can be and how loyal they are. What’s yours, Kira?” 

“…A fox.” She mumbles. 

“That is _so_ cheating.” Derek says, releasing his smile again. 

Stiles was dead, he needed some alone time after this whole breakfast situation. It wasn’t fair for someone to be that beautiful, even when they were glaring at him. 

“Mine’s a hawk because they can fly!” Allison says. 

“That’s a good one, hawks are fast too.” Derek says. 

“Do you have a favorite shape or symbole?” Kira asks. 

“Alright girls, what are you getting at?” Stiles asks suspiciously. 

“Nothing! We’re just asking questions.” Kira says. 

“Mmmm…” Stiles hums, not buying it for a second.

Derek raises an eyebrow at Kira, clearly under the same impression as Stiles. 

“It’s a triskele, it looks like this.” Derek pulls a pen out of his pants pocket like it’s always there.

He grabs a napkin from the middle of the table and draws an almost perfect triskele on it. 

“Each spiral has a different meaning depending on what the whole symbol means to you.”

“What are the different meanings?” Allison asks. 

“Well it could be past, present, and future. Sun, moon, and stars. Mother, daughters, and son.” 

“Alpha, beta, and omega.” Stiles says, more to himself than anyone. 

Derek looks at him as if he’s figured out the world. 

“That’s true,” He says. “It’s the symbol for my family. So that we could always find each other.” 

“Is that why it’s your favorite?” Allison asks. 

“Definitely,” Derek says. “Though it’s a little harder to find my family now.”

“Why?” Kira asks. 

“Kira, I don’t think-“

“No she’s fine,” Derek says. “It’s hard to find my family because there isn’t very many of us left.”

The room falls silent when no one is sure how to respond to Derek. Stiles is sure if he asks later he could get the story, but it sounds like a sensitive subject. 

When breakfast is finished and the dishes have been cleaned, Stiles tells the girls to go down to the store and make sure Scott and Erica aren’t destroying the place. They happily oblige, running out the door and heading into town. 

“Are you sure it’s safe to let them out by themselves?” Derek asks. 

“I know Kira will watch over Allison and the store isn’t that far from the house. Besides,” Stiles points to his chest. “I always know where they are.” 

“Ah, so you have a bond with them?”

“Something like that. I can feel their presence around me no matter how far I go. The same for Lydia, I always know where she is. But enough about my family, you have some information to give me.” Stiles says. 

“That I do,” Derek says. “Do you mind moving back into the green house? The scents in there calm me.” 

Stiles nods, getting up and leading Derek back to the green house. He watches as Derek walks aimlessly around, touching some of the flowers and avoiding the wolfsbane altogether.

“So,” Stiles says. “What does Peter want with my sister?” 

Derek looks at Stiles, scanning his face for something. If Stiles had a nickel for every time Derek looked at him like that, he’d be a rich man. 

“It’s not just your sister, he’d settle for you as well. It’s what inside of you two.” 

“The spark.” Stiles clarifies.

“Yes,” Derek says. “You and your sister are two of the strongest magic wielders in the world. Peter wants your power to make him stronger.” 

“For what?”

“To fight, of course. I wasn’t kidding when I said Peter all but leads the werewolves who want to take over the human society. With a bond forged between him and a powerful druid, it would be almost impossible to stop him. Wolves, specifically alphas, grow stronger with a druid’s magic. However, you and Lydia hold some of the oldest and strongest magic that this world has ever seen. Werewolves thought the power had died off with your mother, but when you grew of age Alphas all over felt it come alive again.” Derek explains. 

“This just gets creepier and creepier by the second,” Stiles says. “So Peter was going to kill my sister to make a bond? I’ve only read up on them, but don’t both parties have to be alive for the bond to work?” 

“Peter wasn’t going to kill Lydia, he was going to keep her. He only kills when he realizes the druid isn’t you or Lydia. The bite he inflicts either turns his victims or starts to forge a bond.” 

Stiles’ blood runs cold. Lydia wasn’t going to die, she was going to become a slave to a psychotic human enslaving creep. 

“Just how powerful are we talking here? I don’t understand why our magic is so special. I was under the impression we were just like any other druids.” He says. 

“You would be, except Stilinski blood runs all the way back to when they still had witch burning parties. Your ancestors were some of the first druids to ever walk this earth. Blood that old isn’t easy to find anymore, so imagine the excitement that there are _two_ druids who hold the power? You have enough power within you that if you bonded with an omega, the weakest of the three classes of werewolf, you would bring their power to that of an alpha. Imagine what you could do for a beta or an alpha?” Derek says. 

“…The alpha would be near unstoppable, nothing would be able to kill it.” 

“Them.” Derek corrects. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine, happens all the time.” 

“What I don’t get, though, is if it’s that important to get us, why have we not been attacked sooner?” Stiles asks. 

“Like I said before, some werewolves choose to follow the unwritten law. A lot of us know it isn’t your fight to have, even if having you meant turning the scales heavily. It won’t be this quiet for much longer, though. The omega last night was just the first of many that are on their way to try to take you for their side.” 

“What about your alpha? Is that why you’re here? Has your alpha asked you to come recruit me?” Stiles asks. 

“I…don’t have an alpha. Isaac and I are on our own.” Derek says. 

“Can I ask what happened?” 

“My mother was our alpha. My family was my pack. There was a lot of us, we were one of the biggest packs in our world. Like us, though, you have your own bad blood within the human society.” Derek says. 

“…Werewolf hunters.”

Derek nods. “They trapped my family in our house. Isaac, my sister Cora, and I were gone for the day. When we came back, our home was in flames. There was only one survivor.” 

“Peter?” 

Another nod.

“Peter is the sole survivor of the house fire, but it changed him. After my mother died, the alpha status was passed to him. It helped him heal but…he wasn’t the same. He used to be a gentle soul, a little shit at times, but he was one of the nicest people I’ve ever known. After the fire he hated humans. It didn’t matter if they were involved in the fire or not, he hated anyone human. He joined the human enslaving mission shortly after.” Derek says. 

The room fell quiet as all the information processed through Stiles’ head. He and his sister were trophies. Lydia was close to becoming a beacon of power for Peter. Stiles feels less sorry for killing the bastard. 

“Stiles, do you know where my uncle is?” Derek asks. 

“I…” 

“Please, it’s important. He needs to pay for his actions against humans.” 

“…What if he already has?” Stiles asks. 

“What do you mean?”

“What if Peter has already paid for everything he’s done? What if there is nothing left to pay for?”

“Stiles, what are you trying to tell me?” Derek asks. 

“I…Lydia has nothing to do with this. Lydia is innocent in all of this, she was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Your uncle is dead. I kill Peter Hale.” Stiles can’t control his mouth. 

The look Derek is giving him has Stiles under some kind of truth magic or something. It’s physically impossible to try and lie to him anymore. 

“Wait, you killed Peter?” 

“Twice,” Stiles says. “I killed him twice. Once when he almost killed my sister, or what I thought was him almost killing her, and once again when he was even crazier after we brought him back to life.”

“You brought him back to life? Stiles I don’t think I’m following.” Derek says. 

“Powerful druid, remember? The first time I killed him, I made him inhale a whole bunch of wolfsbane powder, it suffocated him instantly. The second time I burned him alive. I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was listed as a serial killer, I didn’t know he was some kind of underworld bad boy. I’ll show you where I buried the body, I’ll give you all the information you need.” 

“Woah, hey, calm down. Stiles, breathe!” Derek says, trying to follow a pacing Stiles around the greenhouse. 

“Oh my God, I should have gone to the authorities in the first place. I should have never tried bringing that bastard back from the dead, I’ve ruined my own life. I’m never going to see my girls again, I’m going straight to fucking prison. Jesus Christ, what is my life?” Stiles asks no one in particular. 

“Stiles!” Derek shouts, pulling Stiles’ face in his hands. 

It feels as if time stops while Derek holds Stiles’ face. The spark is back, surging between them. Stiles isn’t imagining it this time, that is definitely Derek’s heartbeat. All proper thought leaves Stiles’ brain as he surges forward and captures Derek’s lips with his. 

Derek lets out a filthy groan, sneaking his fingers into Stiles’ hair and pushing him impossibly closer. Stiles pushes Derek until they collide with the table in the middle of the green house, not detaching himself from Derek’s mouth. Derek spins them around, bringing his hands down under Stiles’ ass and lifting him onto the table. 

Stiles moans into Derek’s mouth, biting down on his bottom lip, making the man growl. Derek slides himself between Stiles’ open legs, sneaking a hand under the back of Stiles’ shirt. All their movements are rushed and needy, whether from lack of sexual activity, or the amount of want for each other the two of them hold. Stiles tugs on Derek’s hands, pulling his head back so he can lick and suck on Derek’s neck. 

Derek growls again, but Stiles knows it’s not to be menacing. Derek is _enjoying_ himself and Stiles is proud he’s doing that to Derek. He opens his eyes to see Derek looking at him, eyes flashing blue. That’s when something hits him. 

It hits him hard, not just in the gut, but in the heart. And Stiles knows why it hurts. 

_…And if he doesn’t exist, I’ll never die of a broken heart…_

It all makes sense now. 

Why Stiles feels such a connection to Derek. Why Derek looks at him the way he does. 

His favorite animal is a wolf. 

His favorite shape has three spirals. 

He sings when no one is looking. 

Jesus Christ, Stiles is an idiot. 

“…His eyes will be green but blue in the night.” He says to himself. 

“What?” Derek pants.

“I…I can’t do this, I’m sorry. This is so horrible of me, I can’t do this.” 

Stiles can feel the panic attack coming on but he forces himself not to let it get through. 

“Stiles, it’s okay.” 

“I’m so stupid, I shouldn’t have kissed you. It’s not that I don’t think you’re attractive. I think you’re _extremely_ attractive. I don’t want you to think I don’t like you, God that’s not it at all.” 

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek says. “It’s fine. I’m not mad or anything, I get it. I’m sorry I let myself get out of control like that.” 

“Really, you were amazing I just... _oh_!” Stiles stops talking, clenching at his heart when he feels it tug in another direction. 

He focuses to make sure his girls are safe, satisfied when he knows the tug isn’t coming from Allison or Kira. He checks Lydia next and feels her in distress. 

“Lydia,” He whispers. “I have to get to Lydia.”

Stiles jumps off the table and runs up the stairs to her room. The closer he gets, the clearer he can hear her shouting at someone. 

“Get out of my head!” She screams. 

When Stiles gets to her, he finds Lydia thrashing around in her bed. No one else is in the room but she’s still screaming at herself. 

“Get out, get out, get out!” 

“Lydia, what’s going on?” He asks her, crouching down next to her. 

“No, Stiles! Back up, get away from me. He’s here.” She says. 

“Who’s here? What’s happening?” 

“Peter, he’s here with me.” She says before screaming again. 

Stiles reaches out for her again but gets yanked backwards by the collar of his shirt. 

Derek is standing in front of him, crouched down with his claws extended. 

“Derek don’t you dare hurt her!” He shouts. 

“I’m not going to touch her,” Derek says. “But I can feel Peter here.”

That’s when thing take a turn for the weirdest. Lydia leans over the side of her bed to assumingly vomit, but bile isn’t what comes. Ash begins pouring out from her mouth as she makes retching noises. The ash begins to take form as soon as it falls to the floor. 

Stiles pushes himself off the floor to stand next to Derek. 

“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening, do you?” He asks. 

“You’re the druid,” Derek says. “I was going to ask you the same question.” 

They were so screwed, especially when the ash formed the silhouette of a person. When Lydia finishes throwing up the ash, she lies back down heavily on her bed before passing out from strain. 

The silhouette shakes violently, making the leftover ash fall off and reveal itself to be Peter. He still looks partially burned from when Stiles killed him last, but he still straightens his jacket out and roll his neck around to crack it. 

“Hello Nephew,” Peter says. “How lovely of you to drop by. I suppose you get the boy, and I’ll finish bonding with the girl?” 

“You’re not bonding with anyone,” Derek growls. “You’ve killed enough people, now it’s time to pay for it.” 

“Please, I’ve already died a couple times. Besides, it’s not like you’re actually going to kill me. You don’t have the heart for it, Derek. Just like you didn’t have the heart when you earned your blue eyes.” 

Derek roars at his uncle, lunging forward and bringing Peter down onto the floor. Stiles crawls over to Lydia to make sure she’s okay while the werewolves writhe about on the floor. 

“Lydia talk to me,” He says. “Come on sis, wake up.” 

Stiles hears a loud snap and another roar from Derek. When he turns his head Derek is underneath Peter’s foot while his arm is twisted in an abnormal angle. 

“You never were stronger than me, even before I was an alpha. I should have killed you the moment you refused my offer of being a pack. You were useless then and you’re useless now!” Peter shouts, twisting Derek’s arm again and earning another crack. 

Derek is no longer shifted, his human eyes looking at Stiles. That’s what really sets Stiles off, the look of plea in Derek’s eyes. 

Stiles can feel the anger boil in him again, burning inside of him and filling his limbs with heat. He’s so done with Peter terrorizing his family. He sees red as his hands heat up. Stiles knows the anger he holds is turning into energy, his power is coming to him in a time of need. He knows just what he has to do. 

“You want my spark, Peter?” 

“If you make the same ridiculous spark joke you made before lighting me on fire, I’ll snap your neck before you finish your sentence.” 

“How about I snap yours? You’ve done nothing but hurt people, innocent people who had nothing to do with your family’s death. Now you’re hurting your own kin? Have you truly lost your mind? You are not welcome in this home, you’re not welcome on this _earth_ and I will cleanse it of your filth.” Stiles says. 

“You really think you’re that strong? You may be one of the strongest druids alive, but you’re one of the stupidest. So long as your sister lives, so shall I. Our bond has started and I _will_ finish it. Humans will know their place on this earth.” Peter says. 

Objects around Stiles begin to lift off the floor, suspending in the air as Stiles’ energy builds. 

“I will find a way to break your bond, but until then, you’re still not welcome here. Now leave!” 

Peter laughs at him, twisting Derek’s arm while he does and making the younger man wince.

“Really? That’s the best you can do? ‘leave?’ If this is really what the werewolves have been waiting for, I almost fear our outcome.” He says. 

That’s when the dresser collides with Peter’s back, destroying itself into hundreds of splinters. He tries to right himself up again but the end table collides with him next, throwing him toward the window. 

“It’s funny because I didn’t know I was one of the strongest druids until today, yet you were still stupid enough to try and mess with us. I can feel my power now, I know what I’m capable of. Now let me show you. Peter Hale, I believe I told you to leave!” Stiles shouts, waving his arm and sending Peter smashing through the window of the fourth floor, past the cliff of their back yard, and into the ocean. 

He knows Peter isn’t dead, but the werewolf will not be able to get through the ward. Though his bond with Lydia has been started, Peter won’t be able to step inside the house until it’s been completed. 

“He’ll be back,” Derek pants. “He isn’t going to stop until he has Lydia.” 

“I know, but I’ll be ready. What about you, are you going to be okay?” Stiles asks. 

“I’ll be fine, injuries inflicted by and alpha just take longer to heal.” 

Stiles feels weak now that his power has left him, waiting to be used for another time. He makes sure Lydia is okay before bringing Derek downstairs. He does a quick bond check with his girls and makes sure they’re still safe with Erica and Scott. 

“I thought you said you killed him twice?” Derek asks after a while. 

Stiles snorts. 

“If we’re counting what just happened, I’ve killed him thrice.” 

“Why did you resurrect him the first time?” 

“Because Lydia asked me to for some stupid reason. She thought if he was revived he would owe us and leave us alone. It didn’t work out so I burned him alive.” 

“Well that explains why he came back a pile of ash.” Derek says. 

Stiles nods, already nervous of what’s to come. 

“He’ll call his posse to the island,” Stiles says. “No one will be safe if we get overrun by werewolves.” 

“We’ll just have to kill him before he can do it.” Derek says. 

“But how? We just saw Lydia throw him up, what else is going to happen?” 

“I don’t know, Stiles, but we’ll figure it out.” 

“When did that become a thing? We?” Stiles asks. 

“Actually…I was wondering that myself. Are we actually going to talk about what happened?” 

Stiles falls silent, not wanting to break the truth to Derek. 

“…Derek how many times did you read my letter?” He asks. 

“Honestly? I must have read it about a thousand times by now.” 

“And when you read it the first time, did you hear my voice?” 

“I…Yes. I did, actually.” Derek says, a little shocked. 

“Last night with the omega, you weren’t actually following me were you?” 

“No, I heard you shout in pain.” His face begins to etch with more and more confusion.

Stiles nods, remembering the words so clearly to his stupid little spell. 

“’He will hear my call from a mile away. He will love to sing, but keep it a secret. His smile will warm the saddest of hearts, his favorite shape will hold three spirals, he’ll have green eyes but blue in the night, and his favorite animal will be a wolf.” Stiles recites. 

He looks into Derek’s eyes as he recites the last part of his spell. 

“And if he doesn’t exist, I’ll never die of a broken heart.” 

Derek is silent for a long time, Stiles figures he’s processing what he just heard. 

“Along with old blood comes an old curse,” He says. “My ancestor Maria cursed her family on accident, making it so anyone who falls in love with us will face death. It took my mother and father away from us at such a young age. So when I was about Kira’s age, I cast a stupid little spell so I wouldn’t fall in love. I created the perfect man for me, but he wasn’t supposed to exist.” 

“…Except he does.” Derek says. 

Stiles nods. He can’t even begin to think about it now that he’s admitted it to himself. Danny’s death nearly ripped Stiles’ heart out, but what if he truly fell in love with Derek? What if Derek died because of him? What would happen to Stiles?

“So I don’t know if what we’re feeling for each other is real or if it’s the spell.” He says. “And I don’t know if I want to find out.” 

Derek nods slowly. 

“Damn, that’s…That’s definitely more original than ‘it’s not you, it’s me.’” Derek chuckles. “It also explains why I can step into your home and Isaac can’t. I’m connected to you somehow, even by just a spell.”

Stiles nods again, not having the words to really say how he feels. 

“Well…Listen, I heard before that spells only work when you give them power to do so. You have to believe in a spell for it to hold any power. Unfortunately for you, I don’t believe in spells. Curses, yes, but spells? That’s a different animal.” Derek says. “I respect you, though. I respect that you’re scared of opening up to someone else. That was me once, too. So how about you focus on your family, and I’ll focus on finding a way to keep this island safe…and we’ll see where we end up in the end.” 

Stiles gives a hushed okay, nodding his head and turning away so Derek can’t see the ridiculous tears in his eyes. Derek rises from his chair and heads for the front door. 

“I know you’re still mourning the loss of a loved one,” He says before leaving. “I know it hurts, and I want nothing more than to hold you and tell you it’s going to be alright. Because what I feel for you? It’s more than a ‘stupid little spell.’ It’s more than I can explain, because I wished for you too, Stiles.” 

And that’s what does it. Stiles lets out a quiet sob, letting his emotions finally take over as Derek closes the door behind him. This wasn’t supposed to happen to Stiles, he wrote that spell as a defense and now it’s coming down on him like a brick wall. Derek was not supposed to exist. It was Danny who Stiles was supposed to love, wasn’t it? He loved Danny so much, but the feelings he has for Derek are completely different. They ignite something in him that he has never felt. And still, he doesn’t know if it’s just the spell. Was it a true love spell? Or was it a true love’s call? 

As his sobs quiet down and his eyes run out of tears, Stiles hears Lydia’s footsteps come down the stairs. He gets up and runs into her embrace. Lydia wraps her arms around her brother and hugs him tightly, leaning her head against his and she cries a little more into her shoulder. When he tries to pull himself free, she holds on tighter, pressing a not-too-gentle kiss to his temple. 

“Surprise little witch,” She whispers into his ear. “I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me?” 

Stiles yanks himself out of Lydia’s grip, backing up as her laugh turns darks and deep and her eyes flash red. Peter is possessing Lydia. 

Stiles does the only thing he can think of, grabbing Lydia by the head and slamming it into the wall. She drops to the floor in a heap, unconscious. 

“Come on you so of a bitch,” Stiles shouts. “Come on!” 

That’s when the front door opens and Marin and Alan step inside. 

“Oh dear,” Alan says. “It seems our sense of time is getting rusty.” 

“I warned you, Stiles.” Marin says. “…Now it’s time to come clean.” 

Stiles looks at his guardians and doesn’t know whether to run, cry on their shoulders, and kiss them, or yell at them for taking so long. 

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, just please help me.” He says. 

“Very well,” Marin says. “You can start by explaining why Lydia is being possessed by a vengeful werewolf.” 

Marin really is too smart for her own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thanks for waiting so patiently for this update! A couple of things. 
> 
> 1\. This is the LONGEST chapter I have ever written for any story I have on ao3.   
> 2\. There are a lot of TW quotes in this one, you are welcome.   
> 3\. Kudos if you caught to loosely quoted AHS reference as well.  
> 4\. Is anything not making sense? please let me know in the comments and I will explain it better for you! I feel like some things I wrote are a little...confusing.   
> 5\. What do you think of the plot? Everything is more explained in this chapter, why Stiles and Lydia are being chased, etc.   
> 6\. I have this vision of Derek being absolutely awesome with kids, cooking them strawberry pancakes, singing 'fly me to the moon' by Frank Sinatra while he cooks, and just being like the ultimate awesome guy.   
> 7\. Would anyone be interested in me possibly making a playlist of the music I listen to while writing for this story? Let me know!  
> 8\. God this is a long endnote. Let me just stop now. 
> 
> All mistakes are mine, please point them out so I can fix them! 
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome. 
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!
> 
> -John


	8. The War Has Just Begun Part One: Our Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stiles sighs at his friends’ cowardice, but completely understands._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Yeah, we’re going to have to find a different way, Aunt Marin. I don’t think it’s a good idea to-”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“I’ll do it.” Derek says._
> 
>  
> 
> _“-Put them in that…. What? Are you serious?” Stiles asks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited so I highly encourage some of you to read it over!**

Stiles is pretty sure there is a permanent imprint of his face on the couch cushion. He’s sprawled across the couch, face down, and listening to his aunt’s lecture.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Stiles.” Marin says. 

“This will be the sixth today, so I mean…” Stiles responds.

Marin ignores him, pushing on as she wipes more sweat off of an unconscious Lydia’s forehead. 

“You can’t practice magic when looking down your nose at it!” She hisses. 

Well, that one was new. 

“I know, I know,” Stiles says, lifting his head up and giving his aunt and uncle his full attention. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s not like I had _intended_ on bringing a crazed werewolf back from the dead and having him possess my sister in the process, it just kind of happened!” 

“I just don’t get it. You managed to get yourself into such a turf war without really trying. Are you sure you’re not cursed?” Alan tries at a joke. 

Stiles hasn’t glared this hard in a very long time, not even at Derek. 

“You know, the only reason I haven’t punched you yet is because my hand hurts.” He mumbles. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Enough you two, we have bigger problems.” Marin says. “Stiles, tell me everything this Derek Hale told you.” 

Stiles sighs, pushing himself up to sit correctly on the couch. 

“The short and sweet version is this: Lydia and I are big and powerful druids, witches, sparks, whatever you want to call it. There’s a war going on in the werewolf world. Half of them want to enslave humans and take back what apparently is rightfully theirs. The other half is trying to prevent that from happening, wanting to instead live in harmony with humans. Then everything changed when the fire nation attacked.” 

“ _Stiles!_ ” Marin and Alan say together. 

“Sorry! Sorry! I couldn’t help it. Anyway, Peter apparently leads the enslaving side. He’s been looking for either me or Lydia because bonded to our power, they’d have more than enough to win the battle and take humans captive. It’s all just one huge fantasy tale, really.” 

“I’m going to assume him and Lydia running into each other really wasn’t by chance then,” Alan says. “Now that he’s located both of you, he isn’t going to stop until he has you bonded.” 

“Yeah but he can’t exactly _force_ us to bond to him or other werewolves, right? Didn’t you tell me once that wasn’t how it worked?” Stiles asks. 

“I said that it isn’t really common to have a bond forced, never that it wasn’t possible.” 

“You really suck at making me feel better about this whole situation.” 

“It’s not our job to make you feel better, Stiles.” Marin says. “However, it is our duty to make sure the balance isn’t messed with.” 

“Does that mean you’re going to help me get rid of this bastard once and for all?” Stiles asks. 

“We really shouldn’t after lying to us about it.” Marin says. “You should have said something when we confronted the two of you in the first place.” 

Stiles gets angry, really angry. Because if there was anyone who should have said something about messing with magic, well…the pot was definitely fucking with the kettle. 

“Much like you should have said something about the little spell you put on me and Danny?” He asks. 

Marin stays quiet as she balls her hands into fists. 

“Do you really think I don’t beat myself up enough about that?” 

“No, I honestly don’t. I don’t think you see exactly what you did. You speak about how magic is sensitive gift that must be used wisely, but you were so willing to use it on your own family. Even now as you sit there and lecture me about how I used it poorly, you’re being a huge hypocrite.” Stiles says. 

“You’re right.” 

“And I’m so- Wait, what?” Stiles asks. 

“I said you’re right,” Marin sighs. “I’m being a huge hypocrite by lecturing you, but I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes I made. I’m not proud of what I did, Stiles. I just wanted to help you and I pulled my brother into it with me. We wanted you to stop hating the world and thought maybe someone could help with that. We never even considered the idea that you would ever fall in love with them. I am so sorry for ever making you hate me.” 

Stiles doesn’t know what to do for a long time. On the one hand, he’s still really, really angry with his aunt. On the other, she actually apologized. Something that he thought was clearly below Marin. 

“I…Look, let’s just get this thing out of Lydia and get the balance and everything figured out. We’ll worry about family drama after, okay? Okay. Now…where do we begin?” 

“Well if what you’re saying is true, it’s only going to be a matter of time before other werewolves reach the island. There is only so much magic can do against a supernatural creature.” Alan says. 

“True,” Marin says. “But we have supernatural creatures here as well.” 

“I am _not_ letting my daughter fight with a werewolf.” Stiles hisses. 

“I was not talking about Kira, Stiles. I was referring to your friends.” 

“Seriously, am I the only one who didn’t know Erica and Scott weren’t as human as they made it seem?!” 

“I’m assuming so, yes. Well you and the rest of the town.” Alan says. 

Really, Stiles is going to move far away from everyone for a while once all this crap is dealt with. He doesn’t know how much more his sanity will take before it dissipates. 

“So what, are we planning on starting like a super secret supernatural avengers squad? I mean I could get down with that pretty easily, I just need to know so I can start thinking of codenames for everyone.” He says. 

His aunt and uncle sigh and really, they should know how to deal with him by now. 

“No, Stiles. This isn’t some sort of secret avengers squad,” Alan says. “It’s friends helping friends.”  
“That sounds less exciting. Regardless, I’ll get them here in a little bit.” 

“You should ask Derek and his partner to come here as well.” Marin says. 

“…Do I really have to?” Stiles asks. 

He really doesn’t want to see Derek just yet. He’s man enough to admit he’s afraid to be in the same room with the guy. He doesn’t know how he’ll react and doesn’t want to find out. 

“Yes Stiles,” Marin says. “He knows more about what is happening than anyone else here. We need his knowledge, and maybe his abilities.” 

“Ugh, fine. You guys sucks sometimes.” He grumbles. 

He stood up to find his phone, deciding to bring Scott and Erica to the house first. They still had Kira and Allison anyway and he wants them home. After sending them a message to close down the store early and come to the house, he sets up the kitchen accordingly and waits for his friends and daughters. 

He’s sitting at the table, flipping the card with Derek’s phone number on it in his hands. He hates his aunt and uncle sometimes. 

After ringing a couple of times, Derek picks up and already sounds concerned. 

“ _Stiles? Is everything okay?_ ”

And wait, how did he know it was Stiles? Never mind, Stiles really didn’t feel like caring right now. 

“Everything is fine…sort of. Lydia is kind of possessed by your undead uncle and we’ve got her under a kind of…coma? Anyway I was wondering if you and Isaac could come to the house in about an hour? I’ll lift the ward so he can actually get on the porch this time.” He says, kind of hoping Derek says no. 

“ _Sure, we’ll be there. I have a few things I need to discuss with you anyway._ ” 

Damn, Stiles guesses he’s all out of wishes. After he hangs up with Derek, he paces the floor waiting for his friends and daughters to arrive. Everything is happening so quickly, and Stiles is definitely starting to get overwhelmed. Just a few weeks ago, he was a normal widowed father. Now? Well now he’s apparently one half of a powerhouse pair of druids that could pretty much fuck up anyone’s day. Even now, since he’s acknowledged his gift, he can feel the magic tingling just under his skin. It’s there at his beckoned called now, waiting to be used for anything. Stiles doesn’t like it at all. He doesn’t like feeling so powerful. He’s read, and even seen, what power can do to someone. It makes them crazy for more of it, makes them want to control more than they can handle. He doesn’t want to be like that. 

Stiles hears the front door open and close before his daughters round the corner and collide with him. 

“Daddy!” Allison shouts. “Why does Aunty Lyds look sick? Is she okay?” 

“She will be, baby.” Stiles says. 

“Dad, I feel weird…” Kira says. “I feel like there is something weighing on us here, something dark.” 

Damn, he was hoping that was just his gut telling him to eat or something. 

“I feel it too, Kira. Just ignore it for now, it will be gone soon.” 

“Is everything okay? Things don’t look too good around here.” Scott notices. 

“Yeah, why is Lydia knocked out and looking like she’s going through drug withdrawals?” Erica asks. 

“I’ll answer your questions soon, but can you two do me a quick favor? Can you step two paces to the left for me?” 

“Um…Sure.” Scott says. 

He and Erica do as they’re asked, slowly stepping over toward the kitchen island with confusion etched on their face. 

“Good, thanks.” Stiles flicks his wrist, completing the mountain ash circle he set up and trapping his friends inside. 

“Hey, what the hell dude? What is this?” Scott shouts. 

“Don’t play stupid, you know _exactly_ what it is and why you can’t cross it.” 

Erica growls at him, looking betrayed as her eyes begin to glow yellow.

“You can’t keep us in here forever,” She says. 

“I don’t plan on it, just long enough to get answers.” He says. “Why didn’t you tell me you were werewolves? And don’t give me that ‘secret must not be known’ crap. I’m supposedly your best friend and you couldn’t tell me this?” 

“That stupid detective ratted us out, didn’t he?” Erica asks Scott. “I’m going to claw his face off when I see him.” 

“No, none of that. There will be no clawing off of the faces of any sort. At all. Ever.” Stiles says. 

“…We were trying to keep you safe.” Scott says. “We didn’t want you sucked into this. We knew how much you hated magic and we figured the less you knew about our wolfy problem, the better.” 

“My kids are constantly around you, and you decided I shouldn’t know you get hairy and scary once a month? What if you lost control around them? What would happen if one of them were to get bitten?” 

“We’re not alphas,” Erica says with a shrug. “If we bit them, it wouldn’t turn them.” 

“ _It would still hurt!_ ” Stiles hisses.

“It’s not like we would actually try to bite them. Allison’s too cute to bite.” 

Stiles gives Erica his biggest bitch face ever. 

“Regardless of my stance on magic, you should have told me. It wouldn’t have made a difference to me at all, I’ve known you two forever. I’m actually really hurt you kept this from me. Especially when I’m dealing with a werewolf problem as it is.” He says.

“We know,” Scott says. “I don’t know how many omegas we’ve had to kick off the island. When we heard about the one that got past us, I was scared it would have killed you.” 

“Wait, wait, wait. Did you just use plural? Did you say omegas? As in more than one?” 

“Um…Yes?” 

“Oh fuck me,” Stiles says. “Just…Just fuck me.” 

“Daaaaad! No swearing!” Allison says, slapping Stiles in the hand. 

“Sorry baby, I’ll stop.” He says to her. He kisses her head before flicking his wrist again and breaking the circle to let Scott and Erica out. 

“Can you give me an estimate of how many?” He asks. 

“I don’t know, I think we’ve dealt with at least six?” Erica says. “I could be wrong though, I don’t usually count my victims.” 

“That…is disturbing.” Stiles finishes. 

“Hey, I’ve never spilled innocent blood and I pride myself in that.” She says, puffing her chest out. 

“Remind me to order you guys medals of werewolf honor,” Stiles snarks. “From now on no more secrets. I can’t handle any more surprises. Especially with everything going on now. Jesus, so omegas have been tracking us for longer than we thought?” 

“If it makes you feel any better, this has been happening longer than Lydia has been back?” Scott tries. 

“That makes me feel the opposite of better. In fact, I feel six times worse. Thanks a lot, Scotty. Oh God, my children have been in danger this whole time and it’s all my fault.”

“We’ll just keep fighting them off like we have been, it won’t be a big deal.” Erica says. 

“It is going to be a big deal. It’s going to be a huge deal! They’re going to come in huge numbers pretty soon here, Erica. It’s not going to be safe for much longer. There’s a war going on and it’s coming here to the island.” Stiles explains. 

“Did you kill the king of evil or something?” She asks. 

“Or something,” He mumbles. “It’s not all my fault, this all started with Lydia. But there’s no time to point blame. We have to be ready and we have to banish the guy possessing her before it gets too out of hand.” 

“Possessing? I thought you weren’t into that whole soul entrapment stuff?” 

“Well, I like to keep things interesting,” Stiles jokes. “Derek and Isaac will be here soon as well. We have a lot to discuss while my aunt and uncle ready some kind of ritual to get Peter Hale out of my sister.” 

Scott perks up at the sound of Isaac’s name. 

“Isaac will be here?” He asks. 

Stiles could practically see Scott’s imaginary tail wagging.

“That is so disgusting, you need to calm down. Yes he’ll be here and you will _not_ be making out in my bathroom.” He says. 

“I would never-”

“Don’t even try lying to me,” Stiles says. “In the mean time, I’m going to make sure everything is going okay with Lydia.” 

“What do you plan on doing to her?” Kira asks. 

“Well…in a nutshell, we’re going to rip an evil spirit out of her body.” Stiles says. 

“Sounds painful,” she says. “Is Aunty Lyds going to be okay?” 

“I hope so, baby. Do me a favor and bring your sister upstairs and make sure all the windows are shut for the night?” 

“Alrighty,” Kira says. 

She grabs Allison’s hand and heads up the stairs while Stiles, Erica, and Scott head into the living room. 

“How is she doing?” Stiles asks. 

“No different than before,” Alan says. “The coma is doing just what it’s intended to and preserving her condition. Peter cannot hurt her while she’s like this.” 

“That’s…good? I don’t know, anything to do with Peter makes me pissed just thinking about it.” Stiles says. “What are you planning on doing anyway?” 

“Well Peter is lurking about in her body, pushing her farther back in her conscience so that she cannot fight him off. If he succeeds, he’ll have complete control of her and can complete the bond he’s started with biting her. She’ll have no control of her body to try and stop it. What we plan on doing is performing a ritual to help Lydia pull herself back to the front of her mind. She has to be the one to push Peter out of her body, but she can’t do that in her state.” Marin explains. 

“I feel like there’s more to the ‘but’ at the end of your sentence.” Stiles says. 

“There is,” She says. “In order for the ritual to work, we have to lift the coma. That gives us very little time to pull Lydia forward. The other problem is that it’s going to take one of us to help her. She has to have a strong connection to help her push forward.” 

“In other words, I have to go into her mind and help her take back control.” Stiles assumes. 

“That’s correct, yes.” Alan confirms. 

“Wonderful, I’ve always wanted to play mind tag with my sister.” He snarks. “Exactly how short of a time frame are we talking?” 

“Minutes.” 

“Oh man this keeps getting better.” 

“We never said it was going to be easy.” Marin says. 

There’s a knock on the front door that reminds Stiles that he still hasn’t lifted the ward for Isaac. He excuses himself to head into the front room. When he opens the door his heart skips just a tad and he mentally slaps himself to get it together. 

Derek is standing there with his hands in his pockets and his stupid scruff and stupidly pretty eyes and Stiles just can’t deal with this sexual frustration when his sister is dying in the other room. He spots Isaac standing off the porch looking grumpy. 

“Sorry, I forgot.” Stiles says, snapping his fingers. 

He can feel when the ward lifts just enough to let a guest within it. He doesn’t want to remove it entirely, wanting to keep as much protection as he can. Isaac walks hesitantly up the steps as if waiting to get thrown back. Stiles opens the door wider for the two detectives to get into the house, closing it behind them and leading them into the kitchen. 

Scott and Erica sit at the table but perk up when the new guests enter. Stiles feels a tad bit uneasy having four werewolves in his house, but he knows none of them will try anything funny. 

“So Peter is possessing Lydia?” Derek asks. 

“It seems so,” Stiles says. “We have her in a coma, keeping him from taking over her body completely. We’ll be performing a ritual soon to try and get him out, but I kind of needed all of you hear to discuss how we’re going to deal with Peter once that happens.” 

“Well we’ve heard from other packs that several more werewolves are heading this way. They’re not all coming at once, but none of them are heading here alone. I suspect we’ll be getting visitors very soon.” Derek explains. 

This isn’t good news at all. If anything, it means they have to act sooner. 

“Well be honest, how good are our odds with four werewolves and four druids?” 

“Against practically an entire army? I’m sure you can figure it out.” Isaac says. 

“If Peter succeeds in bonding with Lydia, we can kiss any chances we have goodbye.” Derek adds. 

“God, I thought you were coming with good news?” Stiles asks. 

“I merely said we had things to discuss, never that they were going to be good.” 

“Have you been hanging around my uncle lately?”

“I’m sorry?” Derek asks. 

“Never mind,” Stiles says. “Alright so we need to get Peter out of Lydia then kill him before his entire liege of vengeance-crazed were-freaks gets here. No pressure at all.” 

They all head back into the living room and find it completely transformed. All the furniture is piled and off to the side with Lydia in the center of a circle of candles. Marin and Alan are standing in front of Lydia, waiting to begin the ritual. 

“We decided to take advantage of having werewolves in the house. The ritual will be much easier if we can connect you and Lydia together physically.” Alan says. 

“Isn’t that way a little more dangerous, though? Won’t take give Peter the opportunity to dive into Stiles?” Derek asks. 

“Stiles’ mental will is much stronger than Lydia’s. Hers has taken some hits with her developing abilities as a banshee. It would be much harder for Peter to possess Stiles.” Marin explains. 

“I’m confused, what exactly do you mean by connecting us physically?” Stiles asks. 

“They want one of us to give you direct connection to Lydia’s mind.” Derek says. 

“And what does that entail?” 

Instead of answering, Derek extends his claws in front of Stiles. 

“They want you to kill me?!” 

“What? No.” Derek says. “One of us has to pierce you and Lydia in the back of the neck.” 

“That sounds painful.” 

“Excruciatingly so,” Derek says. “It’s also very dangerous. If the werewolf doesn’t know what they’re doing, they could severe your spine.” 

“Oh God, count me out.” Erica says. 

“Yeah, I don’t know if I trust myself enough to do that.” Scott says. 

_Some friends,_ Stiles thinks to himself. He raises an eyebrow at their slowly retreating forms. His eyes land on Isaac in a last-ditch effort to avoid the inevitable.

“Don’t even look at me, I want nothing to do with this.” Isaac shakes his head. 

He should have figured. Stiles didn’t like the idea with his friends, what makes him think it would be easier with a complete stranger?

“Yeah, we’re going to have to find a different way, Aunt Marin. I don’t think it’s a good idea to-”

“I’ll do it.” Derek says. 

“-Put them in that…. What? Are you serious?” Stiles asks. 

“I’ve done it before, I know how to do it correctly. If it helps your sister, then I’ll help however I can. I want my uncle out of her just as much as you do.” He says. 

Stiles still feels really bad about this whole idea, but what other option does he have? 

“Scott, make sure my girls don’t come in here and see this, please. I don’t need them getting nightmares.” He says before stepping into the circle with Derek. 

They kneel on the ground next to Lydia, tipping her on her side so Derek can get easier access to her neck. 

Alan sets a lit candle down to complete the circle as Marin explains. 

“I’m going to lift the coma placed on Lydia, Derek you need to pierce her neck immediately. We cannot give Peter any kind of opportunity to complete his bond with her. Stiles, once Derek has pierced both of you, you’re going to get an immediate connection with Lydia. Get inside, find her, and bring her back to us. She has to be the one to push Peter out. She has to deny the bond.” 

They both nod, Stiles a little hesitantly. He’s already shaking from fear of not succeeding. Derek brings his hand over Stiles’ and squeezes gently. 

“Derek there is a chance your uncle will try to pass himself off into your mind, I trust you’re strong enough to resist him?” Alan asks. 

“I sure as hell hope so,” He mumbles. 

“Alright enough stalling, let’s get this over with.” Stiles says. 

He rests himself just a little in front of Derek, pulling his hand away and lacing his fingers with Lydia’s. 

_I’m going to get you back, sis._ He thinks to himself. 

“If you lose your way back, just listen for my voice. I’ll be with you.” Derek whispers. 

Stiles feels a warmth spread in his chest, relief easing his nerves just a bit knowing that Derek is going with him in a way. Maybe after all this is dealt with and his life returns to normal, Stiles will be able to figure out what to do about Derek. Maybe take him out to dinner and get to know him past the broody eyebrows and the soft spoken words. 

“Alright, here we go.” Marin says. 

She waves her hand over Lydia’s body. The latter jerks hard before letting out a shaky breath. 

“Now, Derek!” Alan says. 

The next thing Stiles feels is one of the worst pains in his life before everything goes white…then black. 

 

***********

 

Stiles doesn’t know if his eyes are open or closed. He doesn’t know if he’s hot or cold, and he doesn’t know where the hell he is. All he sees his black. He tries to reach out in front of him but feels nothing, not even the feeling of air between his fingers as he flails his hands around. 

“Lydia?” He shouts. 

His voice sounds loud, echoing forever. 

A dark laughter erupts, disrupting the short silence that followed Stiles’ shout. The laugh sends a chill down his spine, but what really scares him is the scream that comes after. 

Lydia’s scream. 

“Lydia! Lydia, where are you?!” He shouts. 

Nothing. All he hears is his voice calling back to him in countless echoes. He tries running ahead but doesn’t know if he’s even getting anywhere. He hears his feet hitting a floor. Tile? Hardwood? Linoleum? He has no idea. Lydia screams again and it sounds even farther away. 

“LYDIA!” He screams back. 

He’s getting frustrated, he doesn’t know what time it is or how much time he has. If only he could fucking see where he was! He stops running, not able to see his hands balled up in fists on his sides. 

“Alright Stilinski,” He whispers to himself. “You’re supposedly this big bad druid guy. What would a druid do in this kind of situation? He would ask for a light, right? Then do that. Will yourself a light. Will yourself something to help you see.” 

Candle, flashlight, sun, white, stars, moon…

Stiles thinks of anything that gives off some kind of light. Nothing comes at first, until he starts thinking even harder. 

Morning, noon, afternoon, sun room, light switch, bright rooms… 

He blinks. He blinks again. He blinks one more time and the blackness transforms. He’s no longer running aimlessly. No, instead he’s now standing in the middle of his back yard, staring off into the ocean. He looks around him and sees the back of Lydia, staring out at the ocean as well. 

“Lydia, oh thank God. Listen, we can’t stay here, you have to come with me.” He says as he makes his way over to his sister. 

Before he can reach her, he’s thrown back. His back hits the grass and he goes skidding even farther. He tries to lift himself up but hands break out of the ground and pin him there. 

“You cannot have her,” Peter’s voice says. “She’s mine now. She belongs to me!” 

“God, what is it with you evil people and your obsession with owning other people? Seriously, it’s so overrated.” Stiles says, trying to pull himself free from the hands. 

Peter laughs again. 

“Make jokes all you want, little witch. Lydia is going nowhere. Soon our bond will be complete and then you definitely won’t be able to do anything. Not you, not my nephew, and certainly not your aunt and uncle. The new age is coming, Stiles, and soon you’ll be someone’s pet.” 

Peter’s laugh fades away as Lydia turns and finally faces Stiles. There are tears streaming down her face and her cheeks are blotchy. 

“Lydia, help me out of this crap. We have to go.” He says. 

“Just go back, Stiles.” Lydia says. 

“I’m not leaving here without you.” 

“He won’t stop and you know it. Just go back and try to save everyone else, I’m already gone.” 

“No you’re not, Lyds. You’re right here! Right in front of me! Please don’t let him do this to you.” Stiles says. 

He’s fighting even harder against the hands, even as more appear to pin him down. 

“Just go back, Stiles. I love you.” She says, turning around and making her way back to the house. 

“Lydia, don’t do this! Lydia? LYDIA!” Stiles screams. 

He roars in frustration, wishing the stupid fucking hands would just burn off or something. He smells it before he really sees it but when he opens his eyes, the hands are doing just that. 

They’ve set fire and are burning away, freeing him from their grasp.

Somewhere a man is screaming. He doesn’t give himself time to figure out who it is. Stiles quickly rights himself up and runs toward the house, jumping onto the porch and opening the door. 

The scene transforms again. He’s not in his house or anywhere near it, he’s in a dark room with one light. A light that is hovering over a chained up Lydia. Peter is standing between Stiles and his sister, keeping him from her. 

“It’s not too much longer now, little witch. Soon Lydia and I are going to the _best_ of friends and then I won’t be easily killed anymore. I have to admit, you’ve gotten quite a few lucky shots at me, but I’ll make you pay for them, don’t worry.” He says. 

Stiles walks slowly toward the pair, not taking his eyes off of Lydia. She looks exhausted, hanging above the ground with her hands chained to either wall. She’s suspended in the air and not making a sound. 

“Let her go,” Stiles says. “Let her go and I’ll take her place.” 

Peter laughs, throwing his head back. 

“Why would I do that when Lydia’s bond is nearly complete? It sounds like a waste of time for me.”

“I’m stronger than her. It would be more worth it to take me instead of her.” 

“While you have a point, I don’t think so. I don’t need to be a wolf to hear the lie in your voice. You won’t go willingly and while I love a good fight every once in a while, I’m saving my strength for the rest of you disgusting humans.” Peter says. 

“You know it’s not all humans that killed your family, right? Just a certain group of hunters?” Stiles asks. 

That gets Peter’s attention. The stupid smirk finally wipes itself off of his face as he glares at Stiles. 

“Yes, but why give any others the chance to ruin lives like they ruined mine?” 

“Dude, you’re ruining your own life by killing innocent people.” 

“My family was innocent but that didn’t stop your kind from killing them!” Peter shouts. 

“See, that’s the thing. ‘My kind’ had nothing to do with it. In fact, more than half of ‘my kind’ doesn’t even know werewolves exist. The hunters are to blame for your family’s death, not every human, just a handful. This war, this vendetta against us is pointless. Enslaving us isn’t going to bring them back. Your sister, your wife, your nieces, nephews, and children, they will all still be dead.” Stiles says. 

“You’re right,” Peter says. “But it’s sure going to feel really good to be powerful again.” 

“Peter I’m giving you the chance to change this,” Stiles says. “Just take the out and be on your way.” 

“Do you really think you’re in any kind of position to give me an ultimatum? I have your sister in the palm of my hand, your power is soon going to be mine, and you really think you still have a chance of killing me?” He asks. 

Stiles knows Lydia has to be the one to push Peter out of her mind, but his aunt and uncle never said anything about helping push him to the back. 

“You really should have made the right choice, Peter. I’m so tired of fighting, but you’re right. You have my sister and I won’t let that happen. I won’t let you take my family the same way yours was taken. Even if it kills me, I’m getting my sister back.” He says. 

He feels the energy take over once more. He knows Peter can feel it too with the way that he’s backing up. 

“You can’t kill me in here, you’ll kill her too.” He says. 

“I’m not trying to kill you just yet, I’m trying to give myself some more time.” Stiles says. 

Lydia’s affinity is with foreseeing death, making her a banshee. Stiles? Stiles doesn’t know if he even has an affinity, but he knows that he holds a lot of raw power. He uses that power to freeze Peter in place. Stiles pulls his hand back, feeling the energy go with him like an elastic. He pushes toward Peter, shoving all of his energy toward the werewolf and making him combust into thousands of tiny particles with a shout. Stiles knows Peter isn’t gone for good, but he’s given himself more time to get Lydia back. 

He closes the space between them quickly, willing the chains to let her go and fall into his arms. She feels weak and cold to the touch, like she’s dying. 

“Lydia, look at me.” Stiles says. “Come on, sis, don’t quit on me now.” 

Her eyes flutter open when he shakes her gently. A weak smile plays on her lips as she reaches up to Stiles’ face. 

“You never were good at listening to directions.” She whispers. 

“I’m not leaving you here,” He whispers back. “I was told to get you and that’s what I’m going to do.” 

“Don’t you understand? There’s no stopping him, Stiles. He’s already won. He wants me, only me.” 

“That’s not true,” Stiles says. “He wants the world, Lydia. We can’t let him take it.” 

“The bond is almost finished, just let him take me. There isn’t enough time anymore.” 

“You know, that sounds a lot like quitting.” 

“Because unfortunately it is.” Lydia says. 

There’s new tears in her eyes as she looks up at her brother. Stiles can’t help the ones that form in his own. 

“If you do this I will never forgive you,” He says. “We’re supposed to grow old together, remember? We’re gonna get a shit ton of cats and die on the same day. I can’t do that without you. You made a promise, we made a promise.” 

“You’re stronger than me,” She says. “You’ll survive without me.” 

“No I won’t, Lydia. You’re all the blood I have left. I won’t let you do this to yourself. I’ve seen how strong you are and I know you can beat this creep.” Stiles says, brushing Lydia’s tears away. 

A knife appears next to them, glinting in the dim light. He doesn’t know where it comes from or who willed it there, but it gives Stiles and idea.

“Hey,” He says. “Lydia, do you remember the pact you made with me? The one we made to each other the day you left?” 

She nods weakly, seeing the knife that Stiles picks up. 

“What were the words you said?” He asks, pulling her hand closer to him. 

“My blood,” She whispers. 

He cuts into her palm. 

“Your blood,” 

He cuts into his own palm. 

Stiles laces his fingers into hers. 

“Our blood,” they say together. 

He feels it and he knows Lydia feels it too. The energy around them, the darkness lifting. Color finds itself back on Lydia’s face, her eyes getting brighter. Her health is returning and Stiles couldn’t be happier. There’s something else there, almost like a weight that’s been lifted, but he doesn’t have time to figure out what it could be. 

“Let’s go,” he says. “I’m not leaving here without you.” 

He pulls her up with him the same time the ground starts shaking. 

“You think you can really win that easily?” Peter’s voice roars. “I told you she was mine. She’s not going anywhere!” 

Stiles sees a light straight ahead and knows that’s where they need to go. He grabs Lydia’s hand and starts running, feeling Peter’s presence right behind them. He runs as fast as he can, pulling Lydia with him. 

“Faster, we have to go faster! Come on!” He shouts. 

They’re almost to the light when Stiles feels a hand close around his leg. It pulls him back into the darkness, but not before he let’s go of Lydia and uses all the energy he has to push her into the light. 

He’s falling back into a dark abyss, not sure where he’s falling to. He can hear peter chuckling all around him. He didn’t make it out but he knows Lydia did. He knows that she will have a fighting chance to get Peter out. That’s all that matters, right? Lydia will take care of Kira and Allison. His girls will be safe and they’ll have a chance to live their lives. Stiles did everything he could, he just didn’t make it in time. At least he saved his sister. 

In a creepy way he’s always going to be with her, lost inside her mind. Maybe he could be her conscience? Wouldn’t that be something for the books? 

What’s going to happen to his body? Does it stop breathing without its mind? Will they bury it? Burn it? Or are they going to hook him up to a machine and leave his bed ridden for the rest of its life? He has way too much time on his hands now to think about everything. 

What is going to happen to Derek? Will he ever forgive himself for not bringing them both back? Stiles really hopes he doesn’t blame himself for Stiles’ decision. If only he could reach Derek and tell him everything is fine, that he’s fine. He guesses it isn’t possible now. No amount of magic is going to help him out of this hell, but he’s okay with that. At least he died for a good cause.

He falls for what feels like forever, light is long gone and he is alone surrounded by the darkness. Peter’s even stopped laughing at his failed escape. 

“ _Stiles…_ ”

Oh great, now he’s hearing things. Maybe this is Peter’s plan? Drive stiles absolutely insane until he does nothing but agree to bonding with the psychotic bastard just to get out of here. That doesn’t make sense, though. Lydia should have pushed him out of her mind by now, right? 

“ _Stiles you need to come back…_ ” 

Well if it was that easy, doesn’t the voice think he would be back by now? 

“ _Come on Stiles, are you really going to give up that easily?_ The voice says. 

And if he was serious with himself for a minute, Stiles could swear he knew that voice. 

“ _I told you I would help you, didn’t I? I told you I would be with you._ ” 

He does know that voice. In fact, by now, he knows that voice very well. 

“Come on, Stiles. Take my hand, I’ll bring you home.” Derek says. 

Maybe he’s completely lost his mind, but he swears he sees a hand in front of him. It’s beckoning him, waiting for him to take it. 

“Take my hand, Stiles. It’s time to get out of there.” Derek says. 

Well shit, what does Stiles have left to lose? 

He puts his hand in Derek’s and everything goes white again. He still has no sense of direction, but he can feel himself lifting. Lifting up to who knows where. Before Stiles can really look to see if there’s anything above him, everything goes black again. 

Before that, he swears he sees his ancestor Maria smiling at him. 

Waving and thanking him for setting her free. 

 

***********

 

He gasps for air, shooting upright and out of Derek’s arms. He looks around frantically until he sees Lydia sitting next to him, looking shaky but healthy. 

“Is he still there? Is he still in your head?” He asks her. 

Lydia shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“No, he’s gone. I pushed him out, just like you said I could.” She says. 

He can’t help it. Stiles launches himself at his sister, wrapping his arms tightly around her. As they embrace, Stiles sees Maria again. She’s still waving at him and he can make out the words ‘thank you’ on her lips as she fades away. 

“…The curse.” He says. 

“What?” Lydia asks. 

“The curse, it’s gone.” 

“What curse?” 

“Maria’s curse! It’s lifted, can’t you feel it? It used to feel like a weight on our hearts but it’s gone.” Stiles explains. 

Lydia stares at him before her eyes grow wide. 

“You’re right, I can’t feel it. How did that happen?” 

“I don’t know. I have no idea, but I have a feeling it had something to do with our blood pact.” 

“Then how come it didn’t break all those years ago?” Lydia asks. 

“Who knows, blood does get stronger with age.” Stiles says with a wink. 

“That makes absolutely no sense, but I’ll let you slip this once.” 

They hug again before standing up. Lydia has no problem, but Stiles almost falls back to the floor. Derek is the one that catches him just before he can. 

“Wow, I must still be really weak from my adventure in your head.” He tells Lydia. 

“It takes a lot of power to do that kind of thing,” Marin says. “Derek will you bring him to his room so he can lie down? He’s going to need his rest for a little while.” 

Derek nods, leading Stiles to the stairs and up to the next floor. Even in his weak state, Stiles can feel the electricity in Derek’s touch. It hums between them as he walk, and he knows Derek feels it too. 

He does a mental check of where his daughters are, tugging on their connections within him and feeling them resonate within the house. He feels much better knowing their safe. The back of his neck feels sticky and he reaches behind him to inspect. His shirt is soaked with what he assumes is his blood. 

“Jesus, did you leave any blood in my body?” He asks Derek. 

Derek snorts, leading Stiles into his room. 

“Believe it or not, it’s really not that much.” He says. 

He lets go of Stiles, leaning in the doorway to make sure he doesn’t fall on his face. Stiles heads for his dresser, peeling his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. 

“If you’re going to insist on watching me, will you at least close the door?” He asks. 

Derek is hesitant, but does as he’s told. Leaning back against the closed door. Stiles is painfully aware that this is the first time he’s had another guy in his room that wasn’t Scott or uncle Alan, since Danny died. He doesn’t know what is wrong with him, knowing full well he and Derek had an agreement. But with the curse gone, Stiles has a new found courage that he’s willing to test.

“I was scared for a second there,” Derek says. “I thought we almost lost you.” 

Stiles’ memory comes back to him of the last few minutes of being in Lydia’s mind. He sees the darkness, remembers falling, and then seeing Derek’s hand appear to help pull him back to light.

“I almost was lost, but you brought me back.” He says. “You kept true to your word.” 

He feels better already. It feels almost foreign being back in his body, but it’s getting familiar. He feels Derek’s eyes on him, even with his back turned. 

“Did Peter try possessing you?” Stiles asks. 

“Yeah,” Derek answers. “I wasn’t sure what was happening until I heard his voice. He almost made me severe your connection with Lydia.” 

“What would have happened if you did?” 

“I wouldn’t have been able to get you back.” Derek says. 

“That…is a frightening thought.” 

“I pushed him out before he could really take control of me. I don’t ever want to be that close to my insane uncle ever again.” 

“Soon enough you won’t have to worry about it.” Stiles says. 

He turns around and catches Derek staring at him. It makes Stiles feel good about himself, especially since he doesn’t work out nearly as often as it looks like Derek does. 

“Like what you see?” He jokes.

Derek’s eyes trail up Stiles’ chest to his eyes. 

“Very much,” Derek says. “Unless you wanted me to lie? Then I absolutely hate what I’m seeing.” 

Stiles blushes, staring at Derek’s lips and wanting nothing more than to kiss them. The hum is stronger between them. It’s almost unbearable how loud it is in Stiles’ ears. He wonders if Derek has the same problem. 

“Can you hear that?” He asks. 

“Yes,” Derek answers. “I hear it all the time. It’s louder when I’m not around you.” 

So Stiles wasn’t crazy. He and Derek are hearing the same annoying hum. They’re feeling the same pull, the same sensation to touch. It drives Stiles crazy that he can’t determine if it’s real or not.

“I still don’t know if what I’m feeling is the spell.” He reminds Derek. 

“I’m willing to find out if you are.” Derek says. 

And that’s really all Stiles needs to hear before he’s across the room and in Derek’s space. He pulls Derek’s shirt up and over his head, throwing it to the floor before kissing him hard. 

Stiles revels in the feeling of skin on skin after so long, not realizing just how much he missed it until he’s moaning into Derek’s mouth. Derek spins them around, pushing Stiles into the door and pulling his legs up around his waist. Stiles wraps his arms around Derek’s neck, pulling the man impossibly closer. Derek’s hands are on his ass, squeezing and sliding into his jeans. Stiles mouths at Derek’s jaw, loving the prickle of the man’s beard against his lips as he trails kisses down Derek’s neck. The latter gives a satisfied growl, chest rumbling against Stiles and making him suck hard against the skin of Derek’s neck. 

Stiles loves this, loves everything about this. He loves being close to someone again, feeling their skin on his, breathing their air as they steal his own as if it’s sacred. He especially loves this with Derek. Stiles can feel the electricity between them buzzing even stronger. He doesn’t know what it means, but he doesn’t care right now. He just needs to be in Derek’s space. He needs to be kissing him and touching him as if he’s starved for it. He doesn’t even mind that he’s just a little bit desperate. 

Of course, that’s when the universe decides to make itself known. 

There’s a knock on Stiles door that makes them both freeze, panting into each other’s mouths. 

“Please tell me this isn’t happening and we can completely ignore it and continue ripping each other’s clothes off?” Stiles asks. 

Another knock. 

“Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is actually happening.” Derek says, letting Stiles down. 

He tries to relocate his shirt as Stiles shouts they’ll be out in a second and grabs another shirt from his dresser. 

The door opens just as Stiles pulls his shirt on and Lydia is staring at them wide eyed. 

“Listen, I can explain everything.” He says. 

“They’re here.” Lydia says. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Stiles…They’re here.” 

He stares at his sister for a moment before he really understands. He looks at Derek who is sharing his same look of nervousness and uncertainty.

Peter wasted no time at all. 

He’s already back and he’s not alone. 

The war is truly about to begin and they aren’t the least bit prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! It's been quite some time if you haven't been reading my other story. I'm happy to say that this story will be finished by Halloween! 
> 
> Sorry for the unexpected time off but I really needed the break to think about what I wanted for this story. There is only a couple of chapters left but I needed to make sure I knew how I wanted them to go and that I would be happy with them. 
> 
> I think every author's worst fear is growing to hate their work so much that they despise working on it. Unfortunately that's what happened with this story and it was beginning to happen with my other one. I needed the breather! 
> 
> I jumped into the fanfiction writing world balls to the wall and had no plan or goal. I think I was in the midst of getting burned out and I didn't want that to happen since this is kind of a release for me! 
> 
> Hopefully no one is too upset. Anyway ENOUGH ABOUT ME! 
> 
> This chapter has been edited to my liking and I am currently working on the BIG CHAPTER! The battle of werewolves and humans. it's going to be really fun, I think. I can't wait for you guys to read it. 
> 
> Thanks for your patience guys, it's really fulfilling knowing people are so understanding here. Have a great week! 
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome!
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)!
> 
> -John


	9. The War Has Just Begun Part Two: Our Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Before he can turn around he feels a heat behind him and ducks just in time to miss a line of fire._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _“Who the hell found fire?” He shouts._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Sorry,” Alan says with his hands up. “My aim’s a little off, it’s been a while since I’ve used that little trick.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“Little? You just scorched the entire wall! I’m not cleaning that.” Stiles says._

Stiles can’t stop his hands from trembling as he stands in the living room with his family and friends. There are snarls and growls coming from every direction outside and nobody has a clue of what to do. 

“So…anyone think of a plan yet?” Scott asks. 

Everyone glares in his direction, answering his question thoroughly. 

“Do we even know how many are out there?” Lydia asks. 

“I counted eight heartbeats but lost track, I’m going to assume somewhere around fifteen.” Isaac says. 

“That means we are _way_ outnumbered,” Stiles says. “I don’t know how long the ward will hold either.” 

Erica perks up, facing the door before the color in her face drains away. 

“Um…I don’t think it’ll hold for very long. Someone out there is a human.” She says. 

“A human? What is a human doing with a bunch of werewolves?” Stiles asks. 

“I think you can figure it out,” Derek says. “Not all druids are good.” 

That’s when Stiles feels it, an energy outside trying to pierce through the ward. 

“They’re trying to break through.” He says. 

He raises his hand in the direction of the energy, pushing against it until he hears someone grunt in pain outside. 

“Oops…I guess I pushed too much.” He says, not the least bit sorry. 

“Is there any way to make that ward thing stronger?” Isaac asks. 

“Not with you all inside,” Lydia answers. “I designed it to keep unwanted creatures out. A step up from that means _all_ creatures, including family.” 

“Wonderful.” 

“I doubt it would do much good against so many werewolves, anyway. We’re going to have to think of another appro-” 

Lydia’s sentence cuts off, turning everyone’s attention to her. The color has drained from her face and she’s shaking. 

“Lydia what’s wrong?” Stiles asks. 

Her eyes are fixated on something beyond anyone in the room and Stiles knows that look all too well.

“They’re killing,” She whispers. “They’re killing innocent people.” 

“What do you mean? Right now? The werewolves are killing people now?” 

“Women and children,” Lydia continues. “Jesus, Stiles they’re slaughtering the town! They’re killing everyone!” 

She falls to her knees and covers her mouth. Stiles figures she’s trying to keep from screaming even though everything in her body is telling her to wail. He crouches down and wraps his arms around her. 

“Have any of those werewolves left the house’s perimeter?” He asks Erica. 

“No, nothing’s changed.” She says. 

“Then there are more that we’re not aware of. If we don’t figure something out soon they’ll do away with the whole town.” 

“Stiles if there are more than what’s around then our odds are even worse than we predicted.” Isaac says. “There isn’t much we can do against a huge pack like this.” 

“We have to try something,” Scott says. “We’ll just keep fighting until no one can anymore!” 

“Such a bleeding heart, I’m so proud.” Erica snarks. 

Lydia’s shaking doesn’t stop and her lip begins to bleed from how hard she is biting on it. They all hear the sound of glass shattering and Stiles freezes. The wolves look around confusion, not finding any broken glass anywhere.

“Wait, what was that?” Isaac asks. 

“That was the ward…” Alan says. 

The front door breaks open sending wood shards in all directions. An ugly looking werewolf is crouched in the doorway, snarling away and looking around frantically with glowing blue eyes.

“Where is the druid?” He roars. 

“Take your pick,” Stiles says. “There’s four of us.” 

Before the werewolf can answer, little Allison runs toward him. 

“Allison, no!” Stiles yells. 

“Get out of my house!” She shouts, throwing something at the werewolf. 

It takes a second for Stiles to realize the handful of mountain ash hitting the werewolf right in the face. It throws him back into the yard forcefully then falls in a perfect line in the doorway. The house itself lets out a hum as every doorway and window sill forms a perfect dark line. 

“Of course the house is made with rowan wood, why would I ever think it wasn’t?” Stiles asks himself. 

“When our great grandparents built this house they took every precaution they could.” Marin says. “The barrier won’t hold for long, though. It won’t take much for them to break it.” 

Stiles brings his attention back to his daughter, pulling her toward him into a tight embrace. 

“Allison Stilinski, what on earth were you thinking?” He says into her hair. 

“I was just trying to protect you, daddy.” She says. 

That makes him squeeze a little tighter. Kira slides herself under his arm and joins the little hug fest, clinging to both of them like it will be the last she ever sees of them. Stiles doesn’t know what he can do against a giant pack of vengeance-crazed werewolves, but he has to try something for his girls. 

A dark chuckle resonates throughout the house. 

“Little witch…” It says. “You and your friends are really starting to irritate the hell out of me.”

Stiles knows Peter is just outside the house, probably sucking the energy out of some poor, stupid druid who was promised immortality or something.

“You’ve even managed to make a traitor out of my nephew,” He says. “Your will to live is quite inspiring, but it’s in vain. You _will_ die today, no doubt about that. I’m going to enjoy killing you slowly.” 

Stiles shakes his head, ignoring whatever Peter has to say, and turns to the people inside.

“Alright, I have an idea,” He says. “It’s not the smartest I’ve had, but it’s all I can think of right now.” 

He stands up and takes another look around the room. There’s four druids, four werewolves, a mini-werefox, and a little girl with a lion’s heart. He has no clue why he thinks they’ll survive the night, but he has to believe. 

“There’s no denying that the numbers are on their side, but if we work together we can actually win whatever this is. Erica and Scott, I want you in the kitchen and dining room. If anyone gets through, kill them. Don’t ask questions, don’t expect cooperation, just kill them.” He says. 

Scott’s face pales at that, he’s never been one for taking someone’s life. 

“I get it buddy, really I do, but it’s our lives or theirs. I’ll take theirs any day.” Stiles says. 

Scott nods, following Erica into the kitchen. Stiles will have to buy his best friend lunch if they survive. 

“Derek and Isaac, stick around the living area and kill anyone who comes through these windows.”

Derek gives Stiles a long and contemplating look. 

“Just trust me, okay? I really think this is going to work.” He says. 

Derek steps up to Stiles, cupping his face. 

“I do trust you,” He says. “I just don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

“Don’t get all emotional on me now, big guy. I need your muscles, more ways than one.” Stiles winks, turning his face and kissing the inside of Derek’s palm. 

“We’re gonna get out of this, I know it. Now go, we have to be ready.” 

Derek smirks and nods, joining Isaac in the living room. 

“Uncle Al, Aunt Marin, Do you guys even practice offensive magic?” Stiles asks his guardians. 

“Not typically,” Alan says. 

“But if our lives are in danger,” Marin continues as her hand glows. “I’m sure we can make exceptions.” 

Stiles smirks at them. 

“Great, each of you take a pair of werewolves and help them as much as possible. Lydia, take Allison and go upstairs to the top floor. If anything happens to her, I blame you.” He says. 

Lydia glares at him.

“I’m not defenseless, Stiles. I can help you, you can’t just leave me out of the fight!” She says. 

“I’m not, I’m asking you to protect my daughter.” 

“You just expect me to sit up there and do nothing?” 

“No Lyds,” He says. “When I give you the okay, I expect you to scream. I expect you to channel everyone who’s died tonight and scream yourself hoarse with their pain.” 

Lydia gives Stiles a confused look. 

“Stiles that kind of scream could seriously hurt-“

“Everyone with a heightened sense of hearing, I know.” He finishes for her. 

He can see the exact moment his plan makes sense to Lydia. 

“I get it,” She says. “You need me somewhere that _everyone_ will hear me.” 

Stiles nods. 

“Now go,” He says. “Bring Allison up to the top floor, open all the windows, and wait for me to give you the okay.” 

“What about Kira?” Allison asks. 

Stiles looks at his oldest daughter and smiles. 

“I have a special plan for her,” He says. “Go with aunty Lyds, Allison. I promise Kira will be safe.” 

Allison looks as if she’s going to argue but hugs her sister tightly before retreating upstairs with Lydia.

“What do you want me to do, daddy?” Kira asks. 

Stiles kneels down in front of her and takes her hands in his. 

“Remember that neat little lightning trick you can do? I want you to shock the first person who comes through that door.” He says. 

“But…it’s not that strong! I just learned how to control it, I don’t think I can shock someone hard enough to really hurt them.” Kira says. 

“That’s why I’m going to help you,” Stiles says. “We’re going to do it together.” 

His hands begin to glow, making Kira’s glow with them. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the electricity run through her body. 

“Think you can help me beat some bad guys up?” Stiles asks. 

Kira nods frantically before she hugs him around the neck. 

“We’re gonna make them wish they picked a different house.” She mumbled. 

Stiles will deny the tears in his eyes to anyone who asks. 

Before he can really answer her they hear a loud crash surrounding the house. The werewolves are surrounding the perimeter and pushing against the mountain ash at the same time. 

“We don’t have a lot of time, the barrier is going to give any minute.” He says. 

Everyone is in place, ready to fight and kill if needed. He brings Kira a few feet back from the door and stands behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Stiles is pretty sure there’s a clause somewhere in the child abuse section of the law that says he’s doing something wrong, but he’ll worry about that if they survive. 

The walls are whining against the weight of the werewolves and Stiles knows it won’t be long before they’re inside the house. He can feel Kira shaking under his hands and he squeezes her gently to tell her he’s with her no matter what. He swore he’d never use his daughter to fight, but if they’re going to win then he needed her. Her shaking settles a little bit and Stiles knows she’s going to be okay. 

“I love you, Dad.” She says. 

“I love you too, baby.” He says back. 

And that’s all the time they have to say something before the mountain ash gives away and the rooms are overfilled with crazed werewolves. Four try to fit themselves through the front door at the same time, temporarily stalling them. 

“Now Kira,” Stiles shouts, shoving as much energy as he can inside her little body.

“Go away!” Kira yells as all the power she has shoots out of her little hands, electrocuting every werewolf in her path. 

Four, five, six…Stiles watches as they drop to the floor and spas uncontrollably. He thinks too late that maybe he gave her a little _too_ much juice. The smell of burning skin is putrid but Stiles fights through it to keep his daughter safe. He can tell the moment she runs out of power she feels exhausted. He holds her up before she can collapse, throwing some mountain ash at the front door to slow the werewolves down. 

“Kira, can you walk?” He asks. 

“I think so…I just can’t do anymore, I don’t think I have any more energy.” She says.

“It’s okay, baby. Let’s get you out of here.” 

“Did I do okay?”

“You did absolutely amazing, Kira. Now get up the stairs as quickly as you can and stay with your sister and aunt Lydia.” Stiles says, bringing her to the stairs and making sure she can get up them. 

Before he can turn around he feels a heat behind him and ducks just in time to miss a line of fire. 

“Who the hell found fire?” He shouts. 

“Sorry,” Alan says with his hands up. “My aim’s a little off, it’s been a while since I’ve used that little trick.”

“Little? You just scorched the entire wall! I’m not cleaning that.” Stiles says. 

He peeks into the kitchen area and finds Erica and Scott surrounded by a bunch of bodies. Later he’ll congratulate his best friends for finding back bones. Marin is in there with them helping them fight off the werewolves coming through. He sees sparks flying from her hands and watches the wolves she attacks drop like flies. Part of him has always been scared of what Marin is capable of. 

When Stiles reaches the living room, there’s more bodies than the kitchen and he has a really hard time not being turned on by Derek snapping a werewolf’s neck. Clearly he and Isaac have done this before with the way they’re moving and attacking the oncoming enemies. Stiles made the right choice in using their help. 

Before he can get back to the front door there’s a sharp, hot pain that shoots up his back. He falls to the floor on his knees and feels another pain hit him before there’s a foot against the back of his neck. 

“I got him, sir! I got him! What do you want me to do? Do you want me to kill him?” A voice says. 

The foot presses down harder and makes Stiles whimper. The dark chuckle that makes Stiles want to punch newborns resonates in his ears. 

“Always so eager to please me,” Peter says. “No, do not kill him yet. I have much need for that one.” 

Stiles watches Peter’s feet walk past him and toward Derek. 

“Derek watch out!” He shouts. 

Derek has enough time to turn around before Peter’s fist is driven into his stomach. Derek doubles over and is met with Peter’s knee to the face. Stiles is forced to watch as Peter all but beats the crap out of his nephew. Isaac tries to help but it immediately tackled by several werewolves. 

Before long, Derek is thrown to the ground next to Stiles, groaning when he hits the floor. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers. 

“Me? You’re the one healing broken bones.” Stiles says. 

“True,” Derek smirks. “We tried, right?” 

“It’s not over yet.” 

Stiles pulls on all his strings. Everyone connected to him, even Derek. 

_Cover your ears, guys. It’s going to get loud. Lydia, now!_

The scream that fills the air is loud enough to make Stiles cringe. Derek is wincing next to him, pushing his hands into his ears to try and dull the sound. Stiles feels bad but not when he sees Peter kneeling on the ground screaming in pain. There’s lines of blood trailing from his ears and the werewolves around him are in just as much pain. The scream dies down and Derek’s body stops trembling. The person holding Stiles down let’s go and runs to Peter’s side. 

“Peter are you okay? Is everything alright? What can I do?” He says. 

It’s a boy, no older than eighteen, and Stiles can feel the dull energy coming from him. He guesses it’s a druid who just realized what he could do. Poor bastard. 

“Do I…” Peter mumbled. “…Do I look okay? Do I have a smile on my face? Am I fucking laughing?” He yells. 

Before the boy can move, Peter grabs him by the neck. 

“You ask some of the stupidest questions I’ve ever heard.” 

He raises the boy off the ground and holds him there as he gasps for air. 

Stiles wants to do something, anything, but what can he do against a werewolf who just won’t die? No matter what they throw at Peter, the bastard just keeps coming back. They need to be stronger, they need to get as strong as Peter. 

Stronger…

Stiles locks eyes with Derek who’s slowly healing from his injuries. Stiles could help him heal. He could help him be stronger. Stiles could help Derek kill Peter. 

“Derek,” He says. “Bond with me.” 

Derek raises an eyebrow. 

“Did you hit your head when you fell?” He asks. 

“No time for sarcasm, asshole. I mean it, bond with me right now!” 

“Stiles, do you realize what that would mean? We can’t just take something like that away once it’s been done. It would be permanent.” 

“Don’t you think I know that? We’re never going to win this with how we are now. We don’t have enough power against Peter. You’re the strongest one here and even you can’t stop him. Bond with me and you would have more than enough power. You said it yourself, a beta bonded to a druid as strong as a Stilinski would be unstoppable.” Stiles says. 

He pulls the collar of his shirt down to give Derek better access to his neck. 

“Do it, Derek.” 

Derek looks at him for a moment before shaking his head. 

“I can’t do that to you.” He says. 

Peter is still giving off a monologue to the poor druid boy while he dangles in the air. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Stiles hisses. 

“Stiles, I won’t bond with you because you feel it’s necessary. You have to want this too.” Derek says. 

Stiles moves closer to Derek and captures his lips with his own. The hum under their skin all but glows at the contact and Stiles knows why it’s there now. It was never about the spell. The spell was just to get them to find each other. No, this hum was there for a reason. This was Stiles’ perfect man. Derek was meant to be there and Stiles understood it now. 

“If I ever needed to be bonded to someone,” He whispers. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone but you.” 

Derek’s eyes fall to Stiles’ bare neck. 

“I want to share my power with you. I want us to be connected. Now I’m only going to say it one more time,” Stiles tilts his head to the side, displaying his neck. “Bite me, you bastard.” 

The pain from being hit in the back with magic was nothing compared to Derek biting Stiles. It was excruciating, it shot pain throughout Stiles’ entire body. It made him want to light himself on fire. It felt fucking amazing. Stiles knew the moment the bond took place because the pain changed to pleasure and the sensation of their powers surging together was intoxicating. 

Derek was now kneeling next to Stiles jerking back and forth. 

“Derek…Are you okay?” Stiles asks. 

Derek slowly raises his head and opens his eyes. They’re glowing impossibly bluer and it’s almost mesmerizing. 

“I couldn’t be better,” He says with a smile full of sharp teeth. “Make sure everyone else is fine.” 

Before Stiles can answer Derek shoots toward his uncle and slams him into a wall. The druid boy falls to the floor and coughs uncontrollably, getting as much air as he possible can. Isaac is still trying to break through the werewolves that have him on the ground. Stiles looks toward the kitchen and finds his aunt, uncle, and best friends being overrun. He can feel that his little girls and Lydia are doing okay, hiding in the attic. Stiles has had enough of fighting. 

He stands and feels his newfound power rush through him. Not only does he have his energy, but now he shares Derek’s. It’s almost overwhelming how strong he feels. If he tries hard enough he can feel everyone that’s in the house, can tell which ones have malice in their minds and which ones are on his side. He focuses on the bad, pin points every werewolf Peter controls, and pushes. 

“Thank you for joining us on this lovely evening, but now it’s time to get the fuck out.” He says. 

Stiles waves his hand and watches as the werewolves fly through the walls, the windows, and even the front door. He knows the moment he reaches every one of their minds because he can see through all their eyes. Power like this should be illegal, Stiles almost enjoys it too much. He makes them all face the cliff and walk toward it. 

“Let this be a lesson,” Stiles says. “Don’t ever come back to this island and think you can just take over. It’s protected by the amazingly being that is myself. Hopefully on your night time swim you’ll have time to think about the bad things you’ve done and change your attitude towards humans. If you ever come back here, I’ll kill you where you stand. Now jump off and swim back to the mainland. If you end up drowning, do it with class.” 

He snaps his fingers for show and hears the dozens of splashes as the werewolves jump off the cliff and into the waters below. Stiles is brought back when he hears the snap of bone and a shout from Peter. 

Derek has Peter’s arm abnormally bent back behind him. His friends and family stand just outside of the living room and watch Peter and Derek fight. Peter slashes aimlessly at his nephew with his other hand as Derek twists the broken one around. He kicks Peter in the back and the latter slams into the wall, tumbling to the ground in a heap. Peter tries to crawl away but Derek is on top of him before he can get very far. He throws Peter on his back and stands over him. 

“You’re a traitor,” Peter spits. “You’d rather be a pet than be worshipped like we’re meant to be? We were here before all of them! They’ve taken everything from us and you’re helping them.” 

Stiles will never understand how vengeance can take over someone’s mind so much that they see sense in their craziness. 

“I don’t want to be either,” Derek said. “I’m not a pet and I’m not cut out for royalty. I want to be their equal like it’s meant to be. It doesn’t matter which of us were here first, Peter. What matters is how we coexist. You ruin that everywhere you go.” 

“They’ve brainwashed you. They’ve taken you away from your family.” 

“No Peter,” Derek says. “You’ve brainwashed yourself and hundreds of werewolves to think killing a group of people is the right way.” 

“We could have been great,” Peter says. “We could have done amazing things, but there’s no hope for you.” 

Before Derek can answer, Peter claws at his leg. Derek falls on top of his uncle who tries to rip Derek’s throat out. What Peter wasn’t planning on was Derek driving his claws into his chest when he fell. Peter coughs, spraying blood on his own face. Derek raises a hand and slashes it across Peter’s throat, killing him. 

For a man of many words, Peter didn’t even get a chance to give a closing monologue. Stiles can’t find it in himself to be too upset. 

The air in the room changes as well as the energy surging through Stiles. Derek killed an alpha which means he’s now an alpha. Stiles tries to find a way to lock away from of that energy. It’s too much to have at once and he doesn’t trust himself with it. When he and Derek lock eyes they’re no longer blue, but a vibrant red. They look as if they’re ablaze and Stiles doesn’t know how he feels about them yet. It’s definitely not a bad thing. 

He turns to speak to his uncle but words don’t come to him. Instead he meets the floor for the second time that night, passing out from exhaustion. He should have known better than to think he could use so much magic without paying some sort of consequence. He welcomes the darkness quite willingly, knowing the battle is over and his friends and family are safe. Knowing that Derek is safe. 

 

***********

 

The sun wakes him up and he’s staring up at the white wood ceiling of his room. He closes his eyes and does a quick check of everyone. 

Scott and Erica are at the store. Someone is there with them, he figures its Isaac.

Lydia, Kira, and Allison are in the back yard. 

Aunt Marin and Uncle Alan are in the living room. 

Derek…Derek is on the front porch. 

So how is in his room? 

When he opens his eyes, the person sitting in the chair in the far corner makes him stop breathing. 

“Clearly I must be dreaming if I’m looking at you.” Stiles croaks out, his rough with sleep. 

“I can promise you you’re not dreaming,” Danny says. “But I’m not really here, I’ll give you that.” 

“So what, you’re a figment of my imagination? Am I finally going crazy?” 

“Stiles, I knew you were crazy the moment I met you.” Danny chuckles. 

Stiles smiles at him sadly. 

“What are you doing here, Danny?” He asks. 

Danny gets up from the chair and walks over to sit on the edge of Stiles’ bed. 

“I came to give you closure,” He says. “Because I know you’ve been beating yourself up since the day I died.” 

Stiles’ eyes trail over Danny’s body. Everything is the same as he remembers it: the way his tan skin would glow whenever he wore white, his beautiful brown eyes, and those damn dimples that made the meanest old lady melt in her place. 

“Can you really blame me?” Stiles asks. “It’s kind of my fault you’re dead.” 

“You have to stop saying that. No one could have predicted when I died.” 

“No, you don’t understand.” 

“You’re talking about the curse, right?” Danny asks. 

“I…You knew?” 

“Stiles I knew all about you, I just wanted you to tell me yourself. You think the townspeople didn’t come running the moment I got involved with you? I heard all the rumors and everything. I still stuck around because I loved you. I didn’t care what they said.” Danny said. 

Of course he knew. Why did Stiles think otherwise? He knows the people in Beacon Hills made sure Danny was well informed of how Stiles’ family was a curse. 

“So you set yourself up to die from the start?” He asks. 

“Baby, everyone dies. There’s no saying when or how it will happen. You may think your curse killed me, but in order for curses to have power you have to believe in them. I didn’t believe in your curse ever. Did I think you were different? Of course. But I loved that about you. I loved that magic ran in your family.” 

A tear falls down the side of Stiles’ face. Danny loved him no matter what and it feels amazing knowing that. 

“I’m still sorry you died,” Stiles says. “I wish there was something I could have done. I almost brought you back.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Danny says. “Messing with death is a hefty price to pay, as you figured out a couple of nights ago.” 

A couple of nights? How long was Stiles out for? 

“My only regret is that I won’t be there to watch Kira and Allison grow up.” He says. 

“You’re always going to be with them,” Stiles says. “You’re always in their hearts. You never left them.” 

“I guess you’re right,” Danny smiles. “You’re doing great with them. It seems like you’re going to have some help too.” 

Stiles could play stupid and pretend he wasn’t talking about Derek, but he won’t. 

“Yeah that just…kind of happened.” He says. 

“I’m glad it did, though. You deserve to be happy, Stiles.” 

“Do I?”

“Of course you do,” Danny cups Stiles’ face. It shouldn’t feel like a touch but it does, it feels as if Danny is really there with him. Maybe he is. “I only wish that I was your ‘perfect man.’” 

“Sometimes I did too.” Stiles says. 

They’re silent for a little bit, enjoying each other’s company and being content with the moment. 

“I wish I could stay longer but I can’t,” Danny says. “So I’ll leave with this: stop blaming yourself for what happened to me. Know that I’m okay where I am and I don’t hate or blame you for my death. I’m so glad you found someone who is going to make you smile and take care of our little girls. Quit being sad, get up, and live your life. You deserve every amount of happiness you can get.” 

Stiles turns his head and kisses Danny’s hand, nuzzling into it. 

“I miss you,” He says as clearly as he can through his tears. “I’m sorry you had to go, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” 

“I miss you too, baby. I miss all of you, but I’m okay. I’m glad I had my time with you. I’ll always be here, in your heart.” Danny says. 

He leans down and kisses Stiles tenderly. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Stiles says. 

When he opens his eyes he’s alone in his room. He smiles to himself, feeling a new happiness that he didn’t think he could each before. 

There’s a knock on his door and Lydia peeks her head in. 

“Oh good, you’re finally awake.” She says. “Are you feeling better? You kind of went down like a rock.” 

“I’m feeling…” He searches for the right word. Tugging on the string that connects him to Derek and getting an equally excited tug back. “I’m feeling absolutely amazing. I couldn’t be happier.” 

Stiles feels lighthearted and ready to take on the world. He’s surrounded by and being watched over by people who love him and he loves just as much. 

Things are going to be much different now, and he couldn’t wait. 

He feels ready to take on the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand Happy Halloween! Sorry this is kinda sorta late, I was trying to find the time to finish it and it just never came to me. Work and School suck. 
> 
> Hopefully this isn't as cheesy as I feel it is. I feel like it's really cheesy...not gonna lie. 
> 
> However I'm very happy with the ending scene between Danny and Stiles. I felt like that really needed to happen. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! I'm going to try and write/post a chapter for Hold Me Tight before it officially goes on temporary Hiatus tomorrow for NaNoWriMo! 
> 
> Epilogue for this may or may not be written sometime in November. I make no promises but I know I'll have to take a break from writing my nano story once in a while! 
> 
> Have a safe holiday and thank you for sticking around for this story even though I hated it for a bit. 
> 
> Comments and feedback are ALWAYS welcome. 
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> -John


	10. Epilogue: Rite of Passage

“Daaaaad, hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Allison cries. 

She runs into Stiles’ room and jumps on his bed while he gets ready. It’s been quite some time since he’s worn his draping cloak. In honesty it was made just to scare the townsfolk. Now that they know he’s actually a witch, he’s wearing it for a completely different reason. 

“Baby girl, you can’t be late to your own party,” Stiles says. “Now stop jumping before you fall and hit your head.” 

She stops jumping and sits on the edge of the bed as Kira walks into the room. Both his little girls are dressed in pretty black dresses with their hair free flowing down their shoulders. 

“You’re sure Derek is going to be there tonight, dad? He promised he and Scott would catch Allison and I.” She says. 

Stiles looks at Kira through his mirror and smiles knowingly. 

“You know,” he says. “If you’re getting scared it’s okay not to do it. No one’s making you jump with us tonight.” 

“But I want to!” Kira says. “Allison and I may not be real witches, but it’s still a rite of passage, right?” 

He walks over to the bed and sits down, patting the spot on the other side of him. When Kira sits he wraps his arms around both his daughters. 

“Right you are,” he says. “But if you want to wait another year, that’s fine too.” 

“I fought a pack of werewolves a few months ago, I can do anything.” Kira says. 

“Me too!” Allison shouts. 

Stiles sighs at his daughters. They’re right, though. If they can hold their own with a bunch of werewolves, they can do almost anything. Even jump off their own roof. 

There’s a knock on the door and Stiles looks like to find Lydia leaning on the doorway. She’s dressed in flowing black dress with her fiery hair flowing all around and a pointy hat perched on top of her head. 

“Alright, everybody line up. It’s time to get witchified.” She says. 

The girls squeal with excitement as Lydia produces matching hats and places them on their heads. She’s holding onto one more and waves it around with a smirk on her face. 

“Including you, brother. Gotta match with us girls.” 

“Is Uncle Al wearing one this year?” Stiles asks. 

“Of course he is. I gave him my pouty face, he’s never been able to resist the pouty face.” Lydia says. 

Stiles laughs and he takes the hat from Lydia and places it on his head. 

“I’m surprised Derek isn’t here to jump with us. This seems like something that’d be up his alley.” 

“He said he had a surprise for me waiting at the end,” Stiles shrugs. “Plus he promised the girls he’d catch them on the way down.” 

Lydia raises an eyebrow. 

Derek had told Stiles he needed to go back home a couple of days prior, promising to be back in time for the ceremony. Stiles didn’t question it, knowing Derek always keeps his promises.

“Well it is a full moon…” She says. 

“Don’t remind me. Come on, it’s almost time. Let’s go, girls!” 

Kira and Allison race up the many flights of stairs that the house holds as Stiles and Lydia take their time. 

So much as changed in the months after the battle with Peter. The town has never been safer, and Stiles’ family has never been more accepted. Because of the werewolves that terrorized the town Stiles was forced to come clean about being a witch. Of course, the townsfolk weren’t all that surprised. They’d always had their suspicions. 

Stiles is greeted on the streets when he’s walking the girls to school. His home remedy business is blooming with no signs of letting up anytime soon, and his friends and family are treated like people instead of freaks. Once again, no more stones, no more names…Just acceptance. 

When he and Lydia get to the top of the roof they see their Aunt Marin and Uncle Al already setting things up for the ceremony. He holds back a laugh when he spots his daughters lying down on the roof and looking over the ledge at the ground. They’d never admit how scared they were. Just like their daddy. 

Stiles kneels down next to them and looks over. There are already a few families down on the floor with candles and lanterns waiting for the Stilinskis’ big magic trick. 

“Ooh,” he says. “Quite a ways down, don’t you think?” 

Comically, Allison and Kira look at him with big eyes. 

“No,” Kira says. “It’s not far down at all!” 

“Yeah! The house only has four five floors…No big deal.” Allison says. 

Stiles chuckles at them and motions for them to pull back and stand with the rest of them. Marin is adjusting Alan’s hat as Lydia straightens his cloak. 

“Really ladies,” He says. “I know how to dress myself just fine.” 

“I bet you do,” Marin says. “You just have a tendency to forget to turn the lights on before you do it.” 

Stiles shakes his head at his family. In the years of being around them he’s never felt more connected to them. It’s a shame it took a swarm of crazy werewolves to bring them to this point, but he’s not complaining too much. He almost gives himself time to miss a certain, special werewolf when he feels it. 

_Tug, tug._

A smile plays on his lips at the feeling Derek pulling against their connection. He has to resist the urge to run back to the ledge and look over to find him His eyes lock with Lydia and a knowing smile spreads across her face. 

_He’s here?_ She asks. 

_He’s here._ Stiles confirms. 

“If you two are done playing the brain game, your uncle would like to start the ceremony.” Marin says. 

Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Kira stand in a way that completes the circle that Marin and Alan have started, connecting their hands and listening to Alan’s words. 

“Today is a special day for witches and supernatural alike. Halloween isn’t just a night to dress up and collect candy, it’s also a night where we can come out of hiding and be ourselves for a few short hours. It’s been a trying year for us, we’ve loved and we’ve lost, and some of us have loved again.” 

Alan takes a second to glance at Stiles with a small smile. 

“But the important thing is that we’ve overcome every obstacle that’s come our way. We’ve learned how important it is to keep family close.” 

“We’ve learned how important it is to ask questions before casting complicated spells that involve a dead body.” Marin adds. 

Stiles and Lydia purposely avert their gazes from their aunt. 

“And most of all,” Alan takes the speech back. “We’ve learned that in order to be accepted, we must first accept ourselves, no matter what we are.” 

The group nods as Marin pulls out a bunch of black umbrellas. 

“Tonight is even more special because we have three generations together to bring in the New Year. When we jump, we leave behind all the bad that this year has brought us. When we land on the ground, we welcome what the New Year has for us, whatever it shall be. As long as we remember that we have the help of each other and our friends, we can overcome anything.” Alan says. He takes a moment to kiss all the girls on the head and give Stiles the biggest hug he can muster. 

“Now my family,” He says. “Let’s celebrate All Hallow’s Eve the way we know best, by scaring the hell out of the town.” 

The girls squeal with a brand new excitement as they grab an umbrella each. Lydia and Stiles get theirs and Marin passes on the last to Alan. Stiles’ stomach begins churning in nervousness. Not for himself but for his little girls. He promised Allison and Kira they wouldn’t get any help, but he knows his aunt, uncle, and Lydia are already willing enough magic to help them down. He may or may not be doing the same. 

He steps up to the ledge with his family, Alan and Marin on one side, He and Lydia on the other, and Allison and Kira in the middle. Stiles looks down and sees more people have come to see them. In the very front are Isaac, Scott, Erica, and Derek. There’s a girl Stiles doesn’t recognize on Derek’s other side but he doesn’t think she’s any threat if Derek hasn’t pinned her to the ground yet. 

“Ready?” Alan asks. 

He opens his umbrella and everyone does the same. When Marin reaches for Alan’s hand, Stiles does the same to Lydia. He sees Kira and Allison looking at them confused. 

“Kira, Allison, hold each other’s hands on the way down. It keeps your energy balanced.” He says. 

Kira reaches for Allison’s hand who takes it quickly. Even from as high up as they are, Stiles hears everyone down below fall silent. Derek’s nervous, he doesn’t need their connection to know that. 

“Alright,” Marin says. She squeezes Alan’s hand gently as he says with her “one.” 

The six of them raise their umbrellas high. 

“Two,” Lydia and Stiles say. 

They all take a deep breath before the girls shout “three!” 

They bend their legs and jump off the ledge, umbrellas up high and the ground slowly coming closer. Stiles has always loved jumping off the roof. He loves what it symbolizes and how it’s a brand new start for him every time. He does just what Uncle Alan says. He leaves behind all the baggage of the old year and welcomes whatever the next one brings. 

He looks down and sees Scott and Derek standing a little father out from the crowd with their arms open ready to catch Allison and Kira. The girls in question are giggling frantically as they float to the ground, no doubt with the help of their family members and the little magic their spinning. Lydia and Stiles are laughing too, remembering well their first jump and how exciting and scary it was. 

Allison and Kira are the first to reach the ground, and by ground Stiles means Kira lands in Derek’s arms as Allison is caught by Scott. They’re still giggling and begin telling the men what it was like. Alan and Marin land next with perfect grace and their heads held high with pride. 

Stiles and Lydia? Well…They still haven’t gotten around to perfecting their landing. Stiles always miscalculates something and ends up on his ass and Lydia always falls on top of him. Maybe they’ll never have a perfect landing, but it’s a tradition for them. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Erica and Isaac help Lydia off of Stiles as Derek holds out a hand with a raised eyebrow. 

“Always so graceful?” He asks. 

Stiles smiles at him. 

“Only for you, baby.” He says. 

Derek shakes his head with a smile on his face as he lifts Stiles off the ground. Kira is hanging off Derek’s hip as Allison bounces up and down next to them, still full of excitement. 

“Dad that was so cool, can we do it again?” Kira asks. 

“Sure, sweetie. Next Halloween.” 

“Aw, man!” Allison whines. “I wanted to do it again, now!” 

“That ruins the whole idea behind it, baby girl.” Stiles says. 

“I don’t know,” Kira says. “We did have a _lot_ of baggage this year, maybe one more jump wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Nice try,” Stiles chuckles. “So who’s the girl that looks an awful lot like you?” 

Derek looks over his shoulder and looks at Stiles again. 

“She would be one of the surprise I was telling you about,” Derek says as the girl comes closer. “Stiles this is my sister Cora.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Stiles says as he sticks his hands out to shake. “Derek’s told me quite a bit about you.” 

“It’s all true,” Cora says. “I definitely taped him to his own bed when he was seventeen.” 

“Genius. Absolute genius.” 

“I already regret this decision,” Derek says. “Cora wanted to come to the island and meet you and your family.” 

She nods at Stiles. 

“I had to meet the reason Derek’s leaving New York.” 

Stiles tilts his head in confusion. 

“Wait, what?” He asks. 

He looks at Derek whose ears are turning pink. One of Stile’s favorite things about the big goof. 

“Isaac and I kind of put in for a transfer about a month ago. We were approved last week, but I wanted to wait to tell you today.” He says. 

“Transfer as in…You’re staying here?” 

“That’s right.” 

“Like, no more going back and forth between here and New York every other week? Like, you’re totally here?” 

“Is it really that hard to comprehend?” Cora asks. 

Derek glares at her with no heat. 

“It’s just…You love New York,” Stiles says. “Why did you do that?” 

“Well…Because of you and the girls.” Derek says. “Sure, I love my job and I love New York, but that was before you, Kira, and Allison were part of my life. I can be out here and still do my job on a smaller scale. Maybe it’s a good thing for me.” 

“But your job makes you happy.” 

“Yes it does, but you make me happier.” Derek says. 

And if that doesn’t hit Stiles in the heart, he doesn’t know what will. He won’t even deny the dopey smile he’s sure is on his face. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks anyway. 

Derek nods at him. 

“I start work here on Monday. Everything is all worked out already. I can always be contacted for outside work if they ever need it so it’s not like I’m completely giving it up. I can just be more selective in what I take on. I’d rather be here.” He says. 

Stiles picks Allison up and wraps Derek and Kira in a big hug. 

“Words can’t express how happy that makes me,” he whispers. “I’d love to have you here with us. Permanently.”

“Good, you’re kind of stuck with me now.” Derek whispers back. 

“And I have a reason to road trip across the country now.” Cora says, ruining the moment. 

“I hope so, you and I have a lot to discuss over a cold beer.” Stiles says. 

Derek grumbles, plotting to make sure that never happens in the future. 

Stiles steals a glance of the bright moon above them. He almost wants to howl at it, laughing at the irony of his thought. He thanks the mother moon for giving him this second chance, for making his ‘perfect man’ a real person who wished for him too so long ago too. He prays that Danny is watching over them and keeping them safe, hopes he’ll make his late lover proud by raising their kids the best way possible. He welcomes the New Year with open arms, the open arms of his ever growing family. 

Part of him is still scared to admit that he may love Derek Hale, if only out of habit. The truth is, though, there is no reason to be scared. Nothing is hanging over his head anymore, and his heart no longer hurts. He’s free to love whoever he truly wants to. No, he could tell Derek right now that he loved him, but Derek doesn’t need Stiles to say it out loud. All he needs to do is feel their connection and know just what Stiles feels. 

Feeling whole is no longer a dream of Stiles’. He no longer goes to sleep wanting, and he has more than the moon, now. He has a love that even Time would lie down and be still for. 

Was it his and Lydia’s joined hands that finally lifted Maria’s curse? He’d like to think so. But there are some things he will always know for certain: Throw spilt salt over your left shoulder, keep rosemary by your garden gate, plant lavender for luck, and fall in love whenever you can. 

The world isn’t perfect by any means, but Stiles feels like his little piece of it could be. 

And for now, that’s enough. 

 

**_Finem_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...That's it! I'm so sorry this took me forever to write. It's been...a challenge to sit down and write. I better explain myself in the recent chapter of my other story. But I've been dealing with a bad spell of Anxiety. (Spell...the irony) 
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading! Hope this wasn't as bad as I feel it is... 
> 
> Authors seldom like their own work, or something like that. Maybe I'm just naturally a pessimist lol. 
> 
> Hope everyone had amazing holidays! Feel free to jump over and read my other stories! I'll be updating Hold Me Tight within the next week or so. 
> 
> Happy New Year to everyone! 
> 
> Comments and Feedback are always welcome. 
> 
> You will always find me [here](http://est-in-manus.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> -John


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